Love is Being There
by PurpleDusk18
Summary: Harry Potter returns to his home to teach after the war is over. Wounds previously thought healed are reopened as everyone at Hogwarts discovers that love is just being there. Mpreg and slash (go figure).
1. The Future

A/N: Hello. My first fanfiction. Don't be nice unless you want to be. I swear it will be long AND that I will finish it. I know this first bit is short; I just wanted to get it up before I chickened out. Oh yes, and it is slash. I'm sappy and romantic. So, if you're looking for angsty darkish stuff...that's not me. What I am, is someone with severely homophobic parents, being bisexual myself and still (to them) being in the closet makes me want to write a happy ending story. Can't help it. Plus, I hate it when people start things they don't finish. Even if it sucks, there will be an ending (way to sell, eh?). If you're going to read this whilst I write it, my name is Rebekah, I've been to a whole bunch of different countries, so my writing style is strange and I love everyone. This fic is rated R, quite frankly I don't think it will get that graphic, but you never know...  
  
For the fic itself: I'm not anti-Ron. He's just having a hard time, so when we get to that bit in the next chapter (which I will write tonight and post then) don't hate me. Everything's going to be jolly in the very end.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once, so bugger off if you don't like it. They're not mine. The plot is mine, so are any new characters created (you know, like students). It's slash. Don't like it then don't read it.  
  
Here we go:  
  
The morning air was crisp, hailing that soon fall would be over and winter in full swing. Harry pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his freezing ears. Not much farther, he thought as he worked his way down the sidewalk of a street in muggle London.  
  
It really wasn't much farther. A few more blocks and he'd be in the Leaky Cauldron having a beer and renting a room for the night. Who'd have thought, Harry Potter, one of the richest wizards alive, and the savior of wizards everywhere (Well, all but the dark ones, but who really cares about them, anyway?) homeless? Not that he couldn't afford a home, but renting to him? Not on your life. He was a liability. The lackeys, the weak willed gofers of the dark side had been captured and sent to Azkaban, a place that had held nary a whisper of its old terror since the dementors had left in Harry's sixth year, but the darkest of the dark wizards still remained. Some of those wizards had plans for revenge on Harry, and others were Voldemort-wannabes doing who-knows-what in the dark alleys and hidey- holes of both the wizarding and the muggle world.  
  
"Hello Harry, what'll it be?"  
  
Wrenched from his contemplations, Harry looked at Tom and smiled, "Just a beer Tom, and could I get a room?" It always made Harry feel warm inside when he looked at Tom. He'd lost one of his eyes during a battle, but it hadn't fazed him. He kept on like always, running his inn and taking good care of those who needed him. Unlike some other...best not go down that road, Harry, his common sense told him, only pain.  
  
Harry made his way up to his room. Opening the door, throwing his stuff on the floor, flopping himself down on the bed, and wondering once more if he was really going to do this. He'd received the owl from... (Would he be able to call her by her first name, after all this?) probably not, Professor McGonagall, telling him what he would need and when to arrive. He was to start teaching at the beginning of second term as the current DADA teacher was pregnant. This, too, made Harry smile, the newest development of the wizarding world: providing men with a way to have children. Of course, as many modern muggle medical science advancements had been helped along by the Nazis, this spell had, shall we say, a nefarious spawn. It had started as a way for Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy to propagate. They wanted, not to create something greater than Voldemort (that would be unthinkable), but to create the greatest subject and heir were the Dark Lord to (heavens forbid) fall. Thankfully they had never finished. A very pregnant Lucius had died, and Voldemort was slain not too long after. Now the spell had been purified and perfected and many men through out the wizarding world were giving gestation a try (Surprisingly, a great deal of them were heterosexual men married to women. The "you want a baby so badly then you have it" sentiment was running rampant.). Harry was in love with the spell, knowing that, if he were to ever find that someone, they could have children of their own.  
  
Smiling, he went to sleep. His mind was, for the first time in a long time, on the future. 


	2. Welcome Home Harry

A/N: Yup, me again. I swear not to make this longer than the entry this time. Since my italics were lost in the upload of the last chapter thoughts will be denoted as ~thoughts~ it's not as subtle as I'd like, but it'll do for now. I don't know if I've said this yet, but this story is H/D slash...so here's a bit of Draco POV, it'll probably switch between Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Ron (not sure about him yet. His character is kind of sketchy at the moment). I'm not going to make anyone jump for it. I'll update when I update, reviews or no.  
  
Rain was pelting the roof in the staff room of Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco Malfoy was staring out the large arched window that showed the front of the school. ~When is Harry going to get here?~ he thought, book forgotten in his lap. He had just been pondering whether he should wait outside with an umbrella to make sure Harry wasn't soaked when a voice invaded his reverie.  
  
"No, Draco, you should not go out to meet him with an umbrella." Said the omniscient Mione. "He's had a long ride, hell, a long life, you can't just pounce on him as soon as he walks in the gates."  
  
Draco scowled at the suggestion. "Malfoys don't 'pounce', Mione. I just thought it would be a nice way to welcome him—He's here!"  
  
Hermione mumbled something about Malfoys not being gay or acting like schoolgirls around Harry Potter either. "I can still hear you." Draco said happily almost bouncing to the entrance. He knew she was right, though, and by the time they would enter the front hall he was hoping to look stoic. He stopped for a quick look in the mirror, which kindly asked if he needed to use the lavatory, considering the way he was moving about.  
  
He walked next to Hermione getting his giddy emotions under control; soon he was standing in the entrance hall with all the other professors. Dumbledore, of course, was standing in front of the lot, a decided twinkle in his eye. ~What's the old coot up to this time~ and then all lucid thought was extinguished.  
  
Harry strolled into the hall, shaking the raindrops from his hair like a just bathed puppy. Draco closed his gray eyes and looked above Harry's head. He needed something, anything, else to look at. He wasn't sure which was worse. Staring like a lovesick baby duck at Potter or casting his eyes about like a loon. He decided to fix his eyes about three feet above Harry's head. To all appearances, he hoped, it would look like this whole greeting was a huge annoyance.  
  
"Ah, we've been waiting for you, my boy" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Your things will be put in your room, which is a matter I need to speak with you about, but first let's go back, all of us, to the staff lounge for some catching up." And with that the old (and surprisingly limber for his age) Dumbledore led them out of the entrance. Harry, looking slightly dazed followed them all into the lounge. As they each settled into a seat the questions were rapid fire at Harry. He finally asked if he could just tell the story, as it would answer most of their questions. Draco sat, tuned to the sound of Harry's voice, relishing every word, even if they weren't being spoken to him.  
  
"After the last battle," Harry began, "I was drained of some of my magic, the majority of those in the front of the wizard chain were. Mostly I've spent these past years recuperating, learning about some of my new powers, working on new spells, documenting the last battle, helping search out Death Eaters, and," Harry looked pointedly at Hermione, "finding where some of our own are hiding and trying to convince them they're wrong.  
  
"It's been so long since I've been back here, but the instant I saw all the towers and stone, I knew I was home." Harry added, smiling.  
  
Before Draco could process all that had been said (even though it was a bit vague), Dumbledore was speaking, "Harry, as you know the DADA teacher whom you are replacing at the end of this term has requested to stay on as a councilor. Hogwart's, while large, has a limited amount of rooms that are safe for people to inhabit, and the influx of new students has made it impossible for us to grant an apartment to just you. You're going to have to double up with another professor. You'll still have a bedroom to yourself, but will have to share a common and bath room."  
  
Harry was nodding, "That's fine, so, whose it to be then?"  
  
"I was hoping to ask Professor Malfoy to do that honor, he does have the largest room, aside from mine, of course." Dumbledore replied hopefully. Harry looked at Draco.  
  
"Yes, that's fine" Draco said tightly. Not because he was annoyed, just because he didn't know if he could be that near Harry and not sleep walk, or worse. Even though he knew what Dumbledore had said was a fallacy. ~Well, not entirely false. ~ Draco concluded, after the second bedroom was added it would be the largest quarters in the school. Draco wasn't sure he should be reassured, or horrified by the twinkle in the old man's eyes now. ~He has a plan~ Draco firmly squelched that part of his brain that was screaming, "Well, duh!"  
  
Draco then left with Dumbledore to enlarge the room while Harry engaged the rest of the Professors in small talk.  
  
After the room had been resized and the new bedroom added Draco sat on the couch in the common room trying to look casual as Dumbledore went to inform Harry that he could start settling in. He supposed the entirely Slytherin theme to the room was not totally diplomatic, so he started some transfiguration that would do McGonagall proud.  
  
He had done everything else, and was just about to change the colors on the couch when in walks Hermione and Harry. Harry appeared dumbstruck, Hermione's mouth was hanging somewhere around her knees, and Draco took a look around. Except for the blatantly silver and green couch that had snakes engraved on the woodwork, everything was red, gold, or a mixture of the two. Draco was about to say something entirely inane when Hermione made her first coherent remarks, saving him.  
  
"Wow, Draco. When I asked you to help Harry feel at home I had no idea you'd go to such lengths."  
  
Draco shrugged, catching on ~Thank you Hermione~. "Well," he said, "I suppose I got a little carried away. Caught up in the magic and forgot to stop." He looked sheepishly down at his feet. ~Damn, damn, damn, don't apologize, you're not going to bend and scrape for him, even if you are in love~  
  
Harry seemed to have found his tongue, "Tha," ~or maybe not, ~ Draco thought as Harry cleared his throat, "Thanks, er, Draco." That appeared to be all, and then, "Maybe we can find a level somewhere in the middle, but later, would you mind if I talked to Hermione in here for a little while? There are some things we need to discuss in private." Harry looked determined, and Hermione's face, Draco had just noticed, had taken on an ashen hue.  
  
~No, this is my common room, too, and I'll not be ushered out like a nobody~ "Of course. I'll just be in my room." Draco said and he left for the sanity of his Harry-free bedroom.  
  
As he lay on his ornate and incredibly large bed he could hear Harry and Hermione talking in hushed tones. He couldn't hear the words, but could follow Harry's tone. He was speaking harshly, but his voice was more full of recrimination and anger at himself and some other ~probably Ron~ than at Hermione. Eventually Harry's voice became softer and Draco could hear Hermione's tears, falling with the same torrential determination as the rain slamming itself against the roof.  
  
Draco was also being soothed (probably more so than Hermione) by Harry's words. He settled into a half doze remembering the single time when Harry had spoken that way for him.  
  
***Flashback 10 years ago***  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Lucius Malfoy. A jet of dark green light was coming straight for him. Suddenly there was Harry Potter, directly in the way. Harry knocked Draco to the floor and took the spell into himself, using his blood magic to rebound it and hit Lucius. Draco looked up in awe at the boy who had stepped just in time to save him from the curse, and had rid him of his father in one blow. ~He couldn't have hesitated before he jumped, or he wouldn't have made it in time. ~  
  
Draco was positive Harry had not known he was a spy for the Order. He had made sure of it. ~All he knew was that Lucius was attacking me, was that good enough for him? ~ Draco then lost consciousness as the ground shook. His last thoughts were wondering if they would save him after the wizard chain destroyed Voldemort.  
  
He came back to himself leaning against something soft and warm, flying in the cold night air many meters above the earth. As he began to stir the arms that were part way round him tightened and a kiss was placed upon his head. Soon after he lost himself again listening to Harry Potter, the Boy- Who-Lived say soft soothing things to him alone; he had never felt so safe in his entire life.***End Flashback***  
  
And so Draco went to sleep that night, feeling bittersweet. He had not seen Harry again except briefly until today. He'd thought at first it was simply gratitude, but he knew he'd never be content while there was still a chance to have those arms back around him, hearing those words for him alone.  
  
A/N: That looks like a nice place to stop for this chapter, doesn't it? The wizard chain idea comes from David Farland's Runelords books. I'm not stealing it, but it was the inspiration. I'm saying this so that anyone who has read the books will know what I'm talking about, and to give him fabulous credit. All smiles. I'm on Spring Break at the moment so look for me again real soon, 


	3. Hope Springs Eternal

A/N: I've found these things almost as addicting to write, as they are to read. So, here I sit at my laptop with chapter sketches and plot ideas hoping the words will flow. I'm really crossing my fingers that this works out the way I want it to. None of my original fiction has gotten off the ground, and in this I've found real inspiration.  
  
Amadea Malfoy: Thank you for the review! Tell me where to send it and I would love to have your help! I always hate it when I miss things, but after something has been written I tend to skim over the little bits to make sure the big bits make sense. My failing, I know. I really hope you like this!  
  
As Draco left the room Harry felt a pang of something. ~I'll worry about that later~ He thought, and he gave his next unpleasant task his full attention.  
  
"Mione, I know," he began, but was cut short.  
  
"Harry, he's made his choice. He made it ten years ago. I can't sit by and wait for him to come back to us. I won't." A tear gleamed at the corner of her eye and fell unheeded down her cheek.  
  
Harry reached over, wiping the tear from her chin where it sat on the brink of oblivion, and pulled Hermione onto his lap. He needed to comfort her almost as much as she needed the comfort. "Mione, I do know. Or, I don't. He was your husband, and only my friend. I understand as much as anyone can how much this hurts, it's just..." At this all Harry wanted to do was let his own tears fall, but knew he couldn't. If he was crying now he'd never get all this out. "Mione, I've seen him. He's a shell of what he used to be, a red-haired husk of Ron. He's waiting for someone to save him. I just, I need to do what I can."  
  
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy. "Harry, do what you have to, just don't give him any false hopes where Samantha and I are concerned."  
  
Harry's own tears were free falling now. He set her down on the couch and began to stalk the room. "Do you honestly think I'd give him that? He has no right, none at all to make demands on you or Samantha. I'm talking about his life, Mione, that's all. After he has that he can go rot in coldest darkest hole in Hell, I may even dig it for him. I just can't let him go on this way. Knowing that I could have saved him, but I couldn't have saved them both Mione, and I knew he would live..." He looked at Hermione, his face filled with pain, "Mione I'm so sorry I ruined your family."  
  
"Don't you dare, don't you even think to apologize for saving him, Harry Potter. I won't let you. Ron did this, all of this, to himself." And she was lost to shoulder jerking sobs. Harry, realizing there was a pain worse than his own right in front of him, stopped crying and held Hermione to his chest, whispering soothing words as she calmed down. Soon she was sleeping peacefully, and Harry picked her up and carried her the short trip across the hall to her rooms. There he put her to bed and went to check on the ever hyper Samantha. She was sleeping soundly, a soft smile on her mouth, and Harry was glad that at least one Weasley had survived the war almost unscathed.  
  
Harry had quickly forgotten the momentary pang. Now he was dealing with the past, an ominous threat that was always stalking him, and it left no room for wayward feelings. As he lay in bed he remembered that last battle. Once he had thought it a distant memory, but now it felt closer than it had the morning after. Not a legend to be told generations from now, but a first hand account of when good and evil blurred, and the choice between what is right and what is easy mattered not at all. Harry was transported back into a time when a person had to choose between kill or be killed, the day when Harry Potter had chosen to stain his soul with the blackest deed, for wizards and muggles everywhere.  
  
***Flashback, 10 years ago***  
  
The strongest witches and wizards the side of light had to offer were standing in a long chain, all linked at the hands. In order to complete the spell they had to remain in contact, flesh against flesh as they each gave to Harry a part of their very soul. That was the power Voldemort could never have. The Dark Lord stood alone at the top, an omnipotent figure that would never share power. Because Harry was never alone he was able to draw his strength from those around him. He would be the one to strike the blow, but it would be with the heart and soul of the wizarding world behind it.  
  
As the Death Eaters began taking out those at the end of line who were defenseless because they had given their everything to the battle, Harry saw a sight that wrenched him to action. Draco Malfoy defying his father. He saw Lucius, stomach protruding with the child if the Dark Lord, raise his wand to strike down his only son.  
  
Without thought Harry pulled the wizard chain with him to rebound the curse. He watched as Lucius fell to the ground, and Draco blacked out. No time to think on the scene as he led the chain to the brink. There he saw the Dark Lord keening in almost certain defeat, but determined to take as many with him as possible, striking his friends and adopted family dead. Gone was Severus Snape, gone Remus Lupin, gone every Weasley excepting Ron who was still holding on, though looking decidedly limp. And there was Harry, at the front of them all. He raised his wand and said those so unambiguous words "Avada Kedavra" and saw the Dark Lord turn to dust an ash, his flowing black cloak falling to the ground one last time. ***End Flashback***  
  
Harry hadn't known then that saving Draco would put Ron in a wheel chair, never to walk again. While he still held to that scrap of him that said what he had done was right, he couldn't help but feel the pain of Ron's repudiation of all things wizarding. Magic had done this to him, and it couldn't save him. What you lost in a wizard chain stayed lost. That was the point, the greatest sacrifice. Ron had made it, and now he lived in obscurity, having not ever seen his daughter, leaving his wife to pine away ten long years. Harry wondered how he could live with himself. As Harry drifted off to a troubled sleep he wondered which 'he' he'd been thinking of: himself, or Ron.  
  
When Harry awoke he felt somewhat worse for wear, but ready to observe Professor Williams give a DADA class. He was ready to meet the students and start planning lessons. To start his new life, the life he hoped to have for the next forty years or so. Stable, safe, and, he hoped, loving.  
  
Harry sat in the back of the class. Sadly, he found Mr. Williams' waddling more interesting than his lecture. He was aware that the professor probably found his pregnancy more interesting than lesson planning, and so teaching directly from the textbook ensued. Harry had been taught by such teachers, and knew how incredibly boring they could be. Boredom led to uninterested students, which led to ennui and complacency, and in DADA this was a deadly chain of events.  
  
Of course, Harry did not plan on becoming another Mad-Eye Moody. "Constant Vigilance!" was not his catch phrase, but he was going to get these kids to pay attention before another Dark Lord decided it was time to come out and play. ~After all, ~ he thought, ~I'm only around for so long, and this new world is theirs'. If the sacrifice of so many is to be made worth it I have to teach these kids to protect what so many have died for. ~  
  
Finishing a long day of observing, Harry found himself on the couch in his and Draco's common room making lists of the things each year and house needed to learn, and the best way to teach it to them. These plans made him feel safe. Perhaps if he could plan it all to the letter he might meet this first term with success.  
  
"Tea?" Draco's words and a cup to the right of his papers booted Harry back into the real world.  
  
"Yes, thanks." Harry said shakily. He was always wary of human contact after some severe concentration. He never felt in control.  
  
"How was your first day back" Draco asked, Harry thought he seemed to be making the best of a bad situation.  
  
"Fine, all things considered. Seeing the students made me reminisce about our old school days." It made him miss Ron all the more. Wishing he had someone to elbow in the ribs every time he spotted a familiar troublemaker or match as perfect as Ron and Hermione had been even before they'd seen it for themselves. "Really?" Draco responded, "I wanted to ask you about Ron, but I've been afraid to pry. Hermione and I have been friends for a few years now, but she's never been able to share that piece of herself..."  
  
Harry looked Draco over, measuring him. He knew Draco was not interested in Hermione in a sexual way. Everyone knew Draco was gay, but he still was hesitant. After a few moments he was sure Draco had despaired of an answer, but he went along as if the pause had never happened. "There are many reasons why she wouldn't. Understand that I'm trusting you with things most other people will never know" Draco nodded, and with that Harry launched into a full-scale recount of the final battle and what had happened to Ron.  
  
When Harry was finished Draco did not speak. He just sat on the couch and digested the heavy words. Harry felt his anger at Ron return as he looked at the events objectively. He decided Ron needed a swift kick in the nether regions and Harry was just the wizard to do it.  
  
He wrote furiously, and as he got up for a quick midnight trip to the owlry he glanced down to see Draco sleeping on their couch. One tear had fallen from his eye, but the angle of his head forced the tear onto his forehead. Harry carefully pulled the blond man out so that he was stretched out, covered him with a blanket, leaned down, and gently kissed the tear away. As he studied Draco's face he felt something stronger than a pang. Something like an ice cold knife in his heart. Filled with a strong confusion Harry knew only one thing for sure, he could never feel bad for saving Draco, not ever again.  
  
Draco felt Harry's lips on his forehead. And even with the deep-seated guilt he now held, he felt hope spring in his soul.  
  
A/N: Anyone want to tell me why I wrote that? I don't know. I can hardly stand it. Anyway, there's to be more soon. In the next chapter we're going to take a look at things from Hermione's POV, seeing more specifically what happened to Ron, and Ron will get Harry's letter. Things are starting to move...I think. Don't despair of me! I swear this is not totally sad! Cross my heart! 


	4. The Void

A/N: Here's the chapter I've been dreading. The first half is from Hermione's POV and the second from Ron's. Hopefully, I'll be able to explain enough about the wizard chain so that what happened to Ron becomes clear. It's just, I feel bad about doing this to Ron, but I couldn't think of any other way for his character to react and to keep with the integrity of the wizard chain... Eugh, yes, I know, I'll shut up and write now.  
  
JumpyPUNKyMonKey: I hope this all makes sense after this chapter. If not I'll go back and edit the before chapters to make sure it does. I love after Hogwart's stories, too! They're my favorite! Everyone will get happy, they just have some feelings to work out and some issues to get over.  
  
"Samantha, honey, it's time for bed." Hermione called from the common room of their quarters. Hearing the annoyed groan coming from ten year old Samantha's room Hermione raised her voice a little more, and started walking towards the noise. "Come on, this is your last year of tutoring, you have to learn to wake up early for next year!"  
  
"Alright, I'm going, I'm going. Tuck me in?" Samantha sounded totally unenthusiastic, like going to bed was some kind of ordeal. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get in her room, have a shower, and drift off to a dreamless sleep.  
  
"Into bed with you!" And soon Samantha was in her bright purple bed, red hair braided, sleeping like Hermione's angel.  
  
As Hermione readied herself for bed she felt the strings of her heart pull her back to that hidden space in the closet. For the first time in five years Hermione pulled out the dark wooden box filled with her favorite memories. It was a complete injustice that the only remainders of the best part of her life were covered in layers of tear stains, but she wouldn't cast them away. She could have cleaned the stains, unsnarled the edges, and reversed the decay, but she wouldn't. The farther ruined these things became, the farther she was from the pain that, as she looked down and the various photos and letters, felt as fresh as ever.  
  
There were many pictures in that box. Placed in chronological order they recorded the time from when she and Ron had gotten together secretly the summer before sixth year. How Harry had loved to see them together. How they had been with each other.  
  
The war had begun in earnest at the end of Harry's fifth year. Half way through sixth year all the Death Eater's children had been called home. Voldemort was building his army and it was time for the Light to strike. Hermione had known that it was possible for all of them to die, a great many already had, but she wanted to spend whatever time they had left together. Ron had felt the same way, and they were married at the tender age of 17. Six months later she was pregnant, and with the passing of another six months she had found the spell for the wizard's chain and said goodbye to the Ron she loved.  
  
The wizard's chain was a simple, enough construction. Every one in the chain set aside a piece of themselves to give to the wizard or witch at the front. There were several people in the chain that defeated Voldemort. The list of what a person could give was endless: Intelligence, vitality, metabolism, perception. Anything. The catch was, if any of the gifts were used, they could not be returned. Ron had given his vitality.  
  
Ron was ready to give his life to the cause, although he hadn't believed Harry would need it. When Harry jumped to save Draco he assumed his blood magic would rebound the spell. He hadn't known that Lucius Malfoy, thrumming with his own power and that of the child of the Dark Lord would take more from him than he could give. In order for Harry to stay and fight the Chain pulled from the only person who had given vitality: Ron. The Ron that remained could not walk, and tired easily. He could do magic, as it pulled from another source, but he refused, in his stubborn manner, and had walked out on her while she was 7 months pregnant. ~Well, ~ Hermione revised that opinion. ~He walked out on all of us. He left Harry who felt so guilty, he left what was left of his family, and he left Samantha. ~  
  
Hermione felt the last dregs of pain drain from her heart. As she looked down at the box she knew it was filled only with memories, not the pain causing phantoms she had once seen. She lifted the box from her bed, and without hesitation, threw it, pictures and all into the fire.  
  
As she watched that part of her life burn away to smoke and ash, she recited the last words she had said to Ron ten years ago. "Love is being there, Ronald Weasley, and while I know you love me I'm sure you love yourself ten times more."  
  
*********************  
  
The owl was tapping on his window. "Damn owls." Muttered a disgruntled Ron Weasley. He knew it was from Harry. Since the incident no one had sent him owls except Hermione, who had stopped sending them five years ago, and Harry. Harry's owls were always full of apologies, and begging. There was also the occasional update on Samantha, with photos always included. With the anticipation of seeing his daughter vicariously again Ron wheeled himself to the window and let in the annoyed owl.  
  
Carefully, as to avoid further angering the owl Ron untied the letter. This letter, though, was not thick enough to have even one photo, and Ron felt his heart sink. Harry had left their last visit in tears. Ron hoped this would not be another guilt trip. With trepidation he opened the letter.  
  
Ron,  
  
You've seen in the pictures, I know you have, that Samantha is in her last year before Hogwarts. Next year she'll be sorted. Do you have even an inkling of what house she'll go into? Of course you don't.  
  
I'm tired of carrying this pain for you in my heart. Your life now it your own choice. We have managed the best we can in your absence, but we've stopped waiting. If you come back you'll find the world did not stop turning for you, and things are not always as easy as apologies. I've spent the last ten years dealing with that, but I won't hold my heart in reserve waiting for your forgiveness.  
  
Maybe that doesn't affect you, but here's something that might. Neither will Hermione stay alone forever.  
  
Harry  
  
Ron's trepidation turned to indignation. How dare he lay all of this at Ron's feet. And the curses began to fly, his cheeks were bright red, and his eyes stung with tears.  
  
Eventually he stopped the swearing and let the tears fall to the letter in his lap. They pooled on the letter and the ink began to turn to black swirls on the parchment. As he cried he heard the echo of Hermione's last words to him on the wind. She was right. Love is being there, and if he really loved them he would have to face the scrutiny of the real world. He would stop hiding from himself. Alone with his misery he thought he could never be hurt, but now the burn of those ten lost years filled his heart. He had crippled himself far more than the wizard chain ever could have.  
  
When Ron awoke the next morning he was not quite as sure about this as he had been the night before. He knew he was still damaged, and that he couldn't just waltz (figuratively speaking, of course) back into their lives. Especially not Samantha's. As he called the wizard movers to help him pack up his things his eyes fell on the stacks and stacks of old journals, and he was hit with an idea.  
  
He hadn't known what he would do with his time once he moved to Hogsmeade, but now he did. How else could he explain himself? He would not make excuses; there were none, but he would tell his story, and hope that he could earn back some of what he had so callously thrown away all those years ago.  
  
A/N: I'm sorry these are so short! There just always seems to be a good place to stop. I could combine chapters, but it never looks right to me. Anyone have any thoughts? Is it too fast or slow, is the writing too thick? Once people start to pull out of their memories things should get going, and the chapters will get longer. Does that explain most of the stuff about what happened to Ron?  
  
Anyways, I'm rethinking my plan for the next few chapters. It's not going the way I want it to, so I'm changing it. I sort of like having the author power for a change. Anyhow in the next chapter you'll see things from Draco's POV. We're going to skip forward about three weeks to winter break. Draco's going to get some hard news and the title is going to come into play again. Tell me, if I get a little obvious with that. This is getting longer than the chapter again! Sorry, I'm done now. I will write some more this afternoon. 


	5. So That We Can All Rest In Peace

A/N: I am homebound this entire Spring Break, and so I decided I had best get as much of this out while I still have time. I was just sitting up in my room reading (I've got loads of unread books) and an idea just popped into my head. Sadly the idea is for Chapters 6 and 7 so I need to get this one out so I can write those. Not that this is filler. Anyway, I sketched the idea and tried to go back to reading Wreaththu by Storm Constantine, but it's turned into a full-blown nag. I'll probably be up 'til it's tomorrow getting all this stuff down. Thank you all for the support. It makes me happy knowing that people actually want to read it :o) Now let's see if I can get this chapter done without mishap.  
  
Volion: Thanks! And I'll update as fast as my fingers can type!  
  
Graffiti Decorations: Thank you! I hope chapter 4 sorted all that out tell me if I need to go back and revise the explanation.  
  
Michelle W: I'm glad you like it. I'm not too fond of the flashbacks, but didn't want to just write loads of exposition from every character's perspective. How each person viewed the final battle was, in my opinion, very important. I couldn't see how something so huge could not affect them. There shouldn't be much, if any, more of them.  
  
"Mione wants to know if we'll go with her to Hogsmeade tomorrow." Harry told Draco one Saturday afternoon, it was now one week into their winter vacation and Harry and Draco had fallen into a sort of comfortable companionship. Draco knew people thought of them as together, if only in the platonic sense. "She says she needs your help shopping and wants me to keep Sam out of everyone's hair."  
  
"Huh," Draco said looked up from his writing and smiled, "Sounds fine to me, Harry." Draco had known about the trip already. It had been his idea. He was very confused about what he should get Harry for Christmas, and Hermione desperately wanted to go shopping without Sam, so they had decided to help each other out, and keep Harry and Sam in the dark.  
  
"Alright, I'll just go tell her then, and talk to Sam about where she might like to go" Harry got slowly from his seat and stretched himself out before leaving the room.  
  
No more than five minutes after Harry's departure Dumbledore's head appeared in their fireplace. "Hello, sir" Draco said, positioning himself on the couch as to get a better view of the Headmaster.  
  
"Hello, my boy, I'm afraid there's been some news. I thought, perhaps, you'd rather hear it from me now than the Daily Prophet in a week." Draco just nodded for the Headmaster to continue. Whenever Dumbledore looked like he did now, rather diffident and regretful, Draco always felt like student again. He was going to get news, and what ever it was it wasn't good, maybe it wasn't bad either, but he knew it wasn't good.  
  
"Draco, they've found the remains of your mother. Yesterday a group of Aurors found the secret keeper for Voldemort, and they were able to get into Riddle mansion. She was there, in one of the bedrooms. It looks as though the mansion was sealed before the final battle and no one was able to get in or out as the people who sealed it had died. The secret keeper was Peter Pettigrew if you can believe it. Which leads me to something I must speak to Harry about."  
  
Draco nodded again, "Would you like me to send him down to your office, or would you like to wait until he comes back?"  
  
"I think I'll just wait if that's alright with you." Dumbledore said. If Draco had been able to focus on any one thing he would have noticed that twinkle in Dumbledore's eye. ~The remains of my mother, gods. ~  
  
"Of course, but I'll just be in my room if that's alright."  
  
"Certainly, this is a lot to digest, I understand." Dumbledore said, not smiling, but this time even Draco saw ~Damn twinkle, I swear, the man needs to get that checked. ~  
  
With a glance around the room Draco grabbed hold of his writing and rushed into his room. As he collapsed into his bed the emotions he'd held in check broke, and the tears began to fall.  
  
Time passed and Draco paid his soaking pillow no attention. He had no idea why this affected him so much. It was total reaction, with no logic behind it. As his body began to fold in on itself, trying to warm on the outside a cold that existed internally. As he began to despair of ever feeling warm again, two strong arms wrapped around him, and the chill started to leave his body, settling in a dull ache somewhere around his midsection.  
  
Those arms seemed to be attached to both hands and a body. They began to situate Draco onto a lap. Before he even looked up Draco knew they belonged to Harry, but he couldn't bring himself to see the piteous gaze he knew would be there. Just as he thought he could simply be held, avoiding both pain and those eyes, Harry defied Draco's will and grabbed his chin pulling Draco's face to look at his. Reluctantly Draco dragged his eyes up to look into Harry's.  
  
What he saw there he would remember forever. Never had he seen eyes so green, or so full of a mixture of determination, understanding, and sympathy. Sympathy, mind you, not pity. Not "You poor pathetic weakling" but a gaze that said, "I know how this feels, let's face it now, before it haunts you any longer."  
  
Even with those eyes, and that open face, Draco bridled against the idea that anyone understood. This was his pain. Not anyone else's, and certainly not Harry's. He had just readied a snapping rebuff, when Harry kissed his forehead, then sat back just a little and waited. As Draco's brain processed again having those lips against his face the words began to fall from his mouth.  
  
"I'd known she was dead, it's just the conformation. It's official now. I'm not even sure why I care. She was just like him. I know, the biographers made her out to be some sort of battered woman, but she wasn't" Draco was no longer able to face those eyes. Both hands fisted in Harry's shirt he leaned his head on Harry's chest, and let the tears continue falling. He felt his heart beat in time with the hand Harry was running over his head and through his hair. As if functions once unconscious became dependent upon this other man.  
  
Draco let Harry hold him as he worked out his feelings in his head. Maybe someday he would tell Harry how cold his parents had been to him. How the only thing worse than his what his failures had earned him (that snidely cold disdain) was the apathetic praise he would get. How the letter he had gotten a few weeks before he was to get the Dark Mark telling him how "proud" Lucius and his mother were of him had torn him to pieces. He had done all he could for them, surrendered to them his very soul, and all he would ever receive was that brief recognition that, like a performing dog, he had once preformed to expectations. He had gone that day to Dumbledore and asked to be a spy. Even with that purpose he had felt empty, and as he looked back on his life he realized he had felt full again only that night in Harry's arms. Harry filled that void inside him. Briefly he wondered if he should avoid these situations, avoid spending time with Harry, but as Harry held him he knew he would always welcome the embrace, and no one else's.  
  
It was then that Draco realized that Harry's mere presence had torn his thoughts away from his mother, dead these ten years, and on to Harry. It never failed to astonish him, but he wouldn't take it back. Objectively he could see how his current situation paralleled with what Harry had done to comfort Hermione, and it made the ache grow somewhat larger, but he wouldn't send the embrace back either. He knew that one broom ride on a cold starry night had sustained him for ten years, and he relished every second of this, just in case it had to get him through the next ten.  
  
And so they drifted in to dream land. Each holding on to the other, both hoping it would never end.  
  
A/N: So how do you like them apples, eh? As far as Lucius and Draco's mother go, well, it's a mirror image of my parents. You write what you know, and that's what I know. Besides, I didn't want to write another fic with Lucius utilizing tined Crutacius curses, or the like. Personally I envisioned some sort of preoccupied apathy with brief recognition for progress or lack there of. Like I said before, though, it's what I know, and I didn't know how else to put it. Anyways; the next chapter should (I say should, don't trust me, though) be longer than all the others. It's divided into three parts, if I read the chapter sketch right (with my handwriting, you never know...). I'll be writing it and the next chapter tonight and into tomorrow morning (I've had enough diet coke today to keep me up for ages!). 


	6. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

A/N: Here we go again! (Wow that was short-how will I ever keep up my image as a babbling maniac if they get short?) I'm clowning today! Don't ask me why, I have no idea. If my Christmas shopping is lame, I apologize. My family doesn't celebrate it, so I haven't much to go on.  
  
udonluvr11: Thank you muchly! I'm glad you think so!  
  
Volion: No! You're the best! (Yeah, you can smack me now) How could I not update with such awesome reviews? Well, I was going to tell you to "wait and see" but I can't. I hate it when people do that to me! Poor Ron. I can't tell you 'bout him but know that no matter what he does I still love him and will not send him to the lions. I didn't mean to screw him over so badly, but someone had to be a problem child. Harry and Draco are a bit snuggly aren't they? Would you kill me if I said I was not only a big chicken as far as romance goes, but also a sap? They'll get together VERY soon. I can't tell you any more than that, but I swear that the chapter where they get together will be posted by end-of-day today. Even if I have to write my butt off. (Oh dear, did I just make that promise? I'd better get started then!!!) The mpreg thing at the beginning was pure whim, but yes, I'm tying it in. Harry's already treating everyone at Hogwart's like they were his children. A male Mrs. Weasley! Ooof! Who hit me? I think I'm getting my babbling maniac bit back!  
  
Texasjeanette: Thank you! And thanks so much for the suggestion. I didn't get your review until I was already mostly done with this chapter, and I think it would look kind of funny to start 2/3 of the way through. But I swear I'll try to add it in all the following ones. And I'm hurrying!!!  
  
Let's go Christmas shopping!!! Oops! I forgot my chapter sketch! *runs upstairs to get it* Right, then. Now let's go Christmas Shopping!  
  
As Hermione lay warm in her bed that morning she let her mind drift off into space. She'd been doing that a lot lately, but didn't mind. She had her plans set entirely in the present, and could wholly enjoy each minute, instead of waiting for it to pass over to the next in swift succession.  
  
Soon she could hear the muffled sound of Samantha moving around her bedroom. She snuggled closer into her blankets, reluctant to throw off the warm doze. She had just been floating close to the edge of sleep when she was hit by large fast moving object. She let out an "Ooof!" and was wide awake  
  
"We're going shopping with Uncle Harry and Draco today, mom! Get UP!" When Samantha's "UP!" came in a loud rumbling roar all Hermione could do was look at her daughter. Samantha seemed a little taken aback herself and looked at her toes. "Mommy can we please go now?"  
  
"Well, I for one am not exactly dressed for the occasion" Hermione told her daughter. Samantha giggled and Hermione went on, "And I doubt Uncle Harry and Draco are even up from their beds yet! We have a while. I'll get dressed, and then we'll go grab some breakfast. If they're not up by then we'll stick ice-cubes in their pajama bottoms!" Giggling like mad they got ready for the day.  
  
Hermione looked in her closet and tried to process what she saw there. If she had woken up to such a closet during her days as a Hogwart's student she would have keeled over. As it was she couldn't keep her mind away from how much like a shrew's her wardrobe had become. ~Maybe I'll drag Draco along for some new clothes. ~ Even as she thought it she knew it was what she would do. Her heart skipping a beat in its excitement, she pulled out some jeans she wore mostly for lazing around the house, and the close knit black sweater she'd bought but never worn and put them on. Liking what she saw, even more astonishingly caring for the first time in ages what she looked like, Hermione pulled her still-bushy brown hair into a loose pony tail and skipped out to meet her daughter for breakfast.  
  
Hermione had to admit after she and Samantha had loitered in the Great Hall for nearly an hour that Harry and Draco were not coming down of their own free will. So they walked themselves down the corridor to Harry and Draco's rooms. They stopped at the portrait and said the password, and were in.  
  
Hermione decided to wake Draco, as Harry slept like a log, always-had- always-would. She and Samantha crept into Draco's bedroom, and got the shock of their life. Snuggled close together on the bed were a very asleep Harry and a very awake Draco.  
  
"What's going o-"She began, but was cut off my Draco's plea of "I'm stuck, you have to help me."  
  
Hermione began to giggle uncontrollably and momentarily for got she had sent Samantha to launch herself at Uncle Harry. It was only momentary because "Mommy, why are Uncle Harry and Draco –"  
  
"Into the common room Sam, I'll explain later." Samantha cast her mother a look that said "You had better or else" and slumped morosely into the common room.  
  
"Hermione," Draco began again. "I can't get this oaf off of me and I've had to pee for two whole hours! Help me." She could see the distress on his face. Oh yes, she believed he had to go to the bathroom, but she also knew he wanted help diffusing what looked like an interesting situation. ~Very interesting, this should be fun. And I had thought we'd have nothing to talk about on this trip. ~  
  
She gently but firmly pried Harry's arm from around Draco, Harry mumbled something incoherent and rolled over on the bed. As soon as he was free Draco shot her a look of gratitude and ran himself to the bathroom.  
  
While Draco relieved himself Hermione called Samantha back into the room and conjured up some ice-cubes. "On count of three Sammy, let's get him" Sharing grins the last two trouble-makers put enough ice in Uncle Harry's trousers to wake even this great oaf.  
  
The ice slipped in and Samantha yelled "Uncle Harry, time to get UP!" at the same time as Harry's "Oh Shit!"  
  
"Harry," Hermione chastised around her smirk "Such language around children. How were you ever allowed to become a professor?" When they saw the look on Harry's face Hermione and Samantha dissolved back into devilish laughter.  
  
Through their antics they saw Harry stalk out of the room, probably to get a shower and get dressed.  
  
An hour later they were on the path to Hogsmeade. As they approached the wizarding village Harry and Samantha agreed to meet Draco and Hermione at four o'clock for linner at the Three Broomsticks and left for what ever it was they had planned to do.  
  
After they were gone from hearing distance Hermione turned to Draco eyebrow raised questioningly, grin firmly in place. Before Draco could speak she began. "I want details Malfoy, and I want them now. Don't worry; I've got Samantha to get the skinny on Harry. Spill. Count of five."  
  
Hermione almost started laughing again when she saw the look of indignation on Draco's face. It was classic. She'd seen it on the face of almost every charms student she taught. Sam had certainly worn the expression often enough.  
  
As they walked up to a little shop filled with magical knick-knacks and, most importantly, that gorgeous doll Samantha had been jittering about since last May, Hermione saw Draco open his mouth as if to say something, and then close it again several times. Finally it seemed he's decided on what he would say.  
  
"It wasn't. It wasn't as it appeared. You know how I feel about him. It was just." Then he started in a rush. "News came last night that confirmed my mother was dead. I'm not sure why, but it put me in a bad spot. Harry saw me crying and held me all night. That was all."  
  
The mischievous smirk left her eyes and her face softened. "Draco, I have a feeling it was more than that for you."  
  
"Well of course it was! But what was I supposed to do? I was grieving, he was comforting, and I couldn't have trusted any gestures he made during all that. I saw how he let people down while at Hogwart's. I don't want to see pity in his eyes when he looks at me Mione. I'll live with friendship if I have to, but not pity."  
  
Hermione took her friend and fellow professor into a tight hug and whispered in his ear "I know some things about Harry that, as in love with him as you are, you don't. He doesn't have it in him to pity Draco. Give him some credit for the things life has done to him. He deserves that at least."  
  
Composing themselves they walked into the shop together. "Draco," she began again, "I know this might be hard to believe, but sometimes Harry needs to be whacked over the head with a ton of bricks before he knows how he really feels. You do realize he hasn't been with anyone since the last battle, not a one, but he still has this romantic notion of spending the rest of his life with someone?"  
  
"So what does that mean exactly, hmm? That there's no read competition, but that's because the standards are so high?"  
  
"I hate it when you get sarcastic. Next thing I know you'll call me Mudblood again." Draco looked shocked. She took that as a good sign and moved on. "Draco, I don't" She leaned closer, "I don't even think Harry has had sex."  
  
She had to fight back the laughter again, by the look of him she could have knocked Draco over with a feather.  
  
Finally, "That's not exactly comforting, Mione."  
  
"No, you just don't get it. You have to try. Think of how it felt last night, wouldn't you like to feel that every night for the rest of your life? Would it be worth the leap you'd have to take to bash some sense into his skull?"  
  
Draco's eyes filled with tears. He looked down at the floor and nodded his head very softly.  
  
"Right then, let's get to shopping. I want to get Harry and Samantha's gifts out of the way so we can get me some new clothes." Draco brightened at the idea of an all-day distraction and they set off in search of the perfect gifts.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Harry and Samantha walked slowly done the streets of Hogsmeade. When they were far enough away from Draco and Hermione Harry stopped to talk to Samantha.  
  
"Hey, Sammy, do you think you could help me with something really important?"  
  
She got that gleam in her eyes that reminded Harry instantly of Ron. He squelched the instantaneous pain he held for his friend and kept walking.  
  
"Of course I'll help you Uncle Harry. What's the job?"  
  
Harry smiled, "I need your help picking out Draco a Christmas present." If he wasn't mistaken the gleam got even brighter ~Gods~ Harry thought, ~She's got a gleam that could rival Dumbledore's damn twinkle~  
  
"Sure think, Uncle Harry, what were you thinking of?"  
  
"I haven't really. I had no idea it was so important until this morning. Help me please, and keep it a secret."  
  
"Yup yup! You have my word. Let's get going then. Mom's presents first, the Draco's, Kay?"  
  
"Alright, Sammy, let's get to it." Harry said, chucking to himself.  
  
As they searched around the shops Harry found stumbled upon a pair of old looking books. He'd already made up his mind to buy them before he'd even opened to covers. When he did he knew she had to have them. They were the diaries of one Rose Effloresce. She was the first witch to receive the Order of Merlin first class, an achievement that had before only been given to wizards. She had made huge advancements in the fields of transfiguration and emoting charms (Hermione's two favorite subjects).  
  
He showed his finds to Sam, and she let him have a peek at the gorgeous earnings she had found for her mother. They both left the store happy as clams.  
  
Harry's confidence dropped significantly when he remembered his next task. He had realized, even after his rude awakening, that what he wanted with Draco was not entirely innocent, and that his feelings ran deeper than he had thought before. Now, as he looked through shelves and drawers in the various shops of Hogsmeade, he knew he wanted his gift to reflect that feeling. He was close to giving up when his hand fell on something with an interesting texture. AS he pulled it from the dark shelf and looked it over, he knew. He called for Samantha.  
  
"Harry that's perfect!" With a new found confidence Harry and Sam walked up to the front to pay for the gifts. When the till rang it displayed an amount larger than any Harry had paid before on one trip. Without blinking he paid the store owner and made his way with Sam to meet Hermione and Draco.  
  
As they passed the Shrieking Shack Harry noticed that there were lights on, and drapes at the windows. The place looked better than Harry had ever seen it. As his eyes trailed over the new paint and shutters he felt a queasy feeling, like he was being watched. He shook it off as residual paranoia from his past and continued down the street.  
  
**************************************************  
  
From the windows of his new home he could clearly see the front of the Three Broomsticks. He watched as his wife and daughter hugged. Saw them all walk in hand in had, shopping bags on arms, smiles on their faces. As he sat he could feel his anger burning anew as he contemplated the complete injustice of the situation. Even if he couldn't bring himself to hate his best friend, he could rest his blame on the one who was living now, only because of his sacrifice.  
  
The anger began to course through his body, ~who does he think he is? ~  
  
A/N: So, what is Draco getting for Christmas? I haven't the foggiest. Anyone have a suggestion? 


	7. Let Your Heart Be Light

A/N: Forgive the blatant errors in the last chapter. I was babysitting and was constantly interrupted. I swear I'll go back ASAP and edit them! Anyway, I made a promise and I intend to keep it.  
  
Graffiti Decorations: I'm glad! Thank you :o)  
  
Lyonessheart: Thank you!! You're ideas are awesome! They actually gave me an idea for Draco's gift to Harry, and that turned into a plot device! ~looks guilty~ I promised to deliver Harry/Draco in this chapter and had no idea how. Let's hear it for my deus ex machina!!!  
  
Love to you all, I can't imagine having better reviewers and I don't know where I'd be with out you!  
  
So! Let's have our selves a merry little Christmas! ...Or not  
  
Since his first year at Hogwart's Harry's favorite holiday had always been Christmas. It was the day he felt most connected with his family, even those already on the other side. As if he could feel all their love, wrapping itself 'round his soul, bringing an unconscious smile to his lips. This Christmas was no different, and as he padded out into the common room, where all the important people in his world were about to gather, he couldn't help but feel lucky.  
  
He was one step out of his bedroom when he stopped dead in his tracks. All over the common room were porcelain dolls. They sat on shelves, under the tree, on furniture. The feeling of all those eyes on him, even inanimate doll eyes ~strike that, especially inanimate doll eyes~ made his stomach crawl.  
  
Before jumping to any conclusions he went to fetch Draco. Maybe he knew something Harry didn't. Even though the door to Draco's room wasn't far away Harry was in a run by the time he got to it ~those eyes~ he shuddered.  
  
He checked himself as he got to the door, tried to slow his breathing down, but it was no use. The accusatory eyes of the dolls were burning holes in his back. He knocked twice, then, without waiting for an answer, opened to door to see Draco quickly shove something under his pillow. Harry had no time for curiosity; he wanted those soulless things out of their living room!  
  
"How many dolls did you guys buy same last week?" Harry managed to gasp out.  
  
Draco looked at him, head tipped to one side, "Hermione bought her one, and I bought her something else, why?"  
  
"Come see." Harry just moved out the way to let Draco into the common room, staying within the doll-free confines of Draco's bedroom. He managed to get his breathe under control by the time Draco returned. "I've no idea where all those dolls came from Harry, there's a card, but perhaps we should get Hermione in here first. She may want to have them checked before she gives them to Samantha...Harry, what's wrong?"  
  
Harry had realized how he'd been acting, and scuffed his feet on Draco's floor. "I was surprised by the dolls, having them all there was- unnerving."  
  
"Ah" Draco said, giving Harry a strange look before going back out into the common room. "Harry," he said, "Why don't you go get Hermione?"  
  
Harry, more than willing to oblige Draco, as it meant he got to leave their rooms for at least a few moments, walked swiftly out the door. As soon as he was out the door his pace slowed. Walking across the hall to Hermione's room he had a little space to wonder who would have sent to dolls, but no one in particular jumped to mind. Softly he knocked on her door, seconds later the door was opened by a very hyper Samantha.  
  
"Uncle Harry! Is it time for presents? Mom said we couldn't go over early because she wasn't sure 'bout where you'd" But what Hermione wasn't sure about Harry wasn't able to catch because out of no where Hermione's hand had clamped itself over Sam's mouth.  
  
"Hello Harry" Hermione said, giggling rather nervously," would you like us to come over now?"  
  
"Actually, Hermione, Draco and I were wondering if you could leave Sam here for a moment and come and look at something." Harry looked down at Sam "I'm sorry sweet, but it's kind of important, and you can follow in about five minutes alright?" Harry said, thinking that five minutes was enough time to vanish the dolls to another room if need be.  
  
"Sure thing, Harry, I'll just be along. Sammy, stay right here and come along in a few minutes." Hermione followed Harry out into the hall and Sam nodded.  
  
"Harry, what's this about?" Hermione almost hissed as they walked to Harry and Draco's rooms.  
  
"You'll see, just come."  
  
Harry let Hermione open the door and she, too, stopped dead. "Harry, who are these from, there must be a hundred of them!"  
  
Just then Draco walked in with a pink envelope. Hermione opened it, and all she could do was stare and the card that she pulled out. When asked whom it was from all she said was "Ron". Harry and Draco just looked at each other, neither could think of anything to say.  
  
A few moments passed, and a previously forgotten Samantha came bouncing into the room. "Mommy, did you get me all these dolls? I thought we could only afford one...mommy?"  
  
Numbly, tears running down her cheeks, and her eyes rather wide, Hermione handed Sam the card. All any of them could do was watch for the reaction.  
  
At first they thought she wouldn't do anything, as still as she stood. Soon, though, they could see her face getting red and her fists clench. She, too, now had tears running down her cheeks. From Harry's perspective they looked more like angry tears than grateful ones.  
  
In fascinated horror the watched as Samantha leaned her head back, her mouth to the ceiling, and screamed. It was a sound of anguish and pain. And after about five seconds the heads of the dolls began to explode, sending shards of porcelain all over the room. Showering them in some malevolent parody of the snow falling outside.  
  
Seconds passed like hours as Harry saw Hermione reach to guard Samantha from the downpour, without thinking Harry did the same for Draco. Only Draco seemed intent on sheltering Harry, and they collided into each other and landed in a heap on the floor. In a flash they got on their knees, bending down as if praying, each covering the other's neck with their arm.  
  
It seemed like they stayed that way for hours when all the noise stopped, and bits of glass were no longer falling from above. Hesitantly, Harry got up to see Hermione holding a sobbing Sam. His heart went out to them, but he knew anything he could do now had more to do with getting the room cleaned up, than comforting a broken hearted child.  
  
Draco gathered up the remainder of the presents under the tree, the doll from Hermione still intact, placed them into a pile, and Harry watched as Draco went into his room. Harry called for the house elves to come clean up the glass, and went into his own room to get his presents for the others.  
  
After he had them, he went back into the common room. Kneeling down beside Hermione and Sam he said quietly, "Would you like to go back to your rooms and open some presents?" Hermione looked as though she was about to protest, but Sam nodded and slowly brightened.  
  
"Thanks, Uncle Harry, let's go."  
  
So they walked from the room just as the house elves began to poof themselves in it. Walking the short walk to Hermione's rooms they all stayed silent. Opening the door, Hermione sent Draco with Sam into the common room and pulled Harry aside.  
  
"Harry, I know you want to make her feel better, gods know I do too, but shouldn't we be talking to Dumbledore about what just happened in there?" Harry looked taken aback. "Hermione, she's you child, you should do what you think is best, I just thought... Mione, it's Christmas. She can talk about painful things this afternoon, but let her open presents first." Perhaps he was reading some of his own emotions on to Sam, but he knew how he had felt as a child, and he would have wanted a breather, especially one with presents.  
  
"No, you're right Harry, let's go open presents." And so Harry and Hermione joined Draco and Sam in the common room.  
  
When Sam had opened every last gift there was to open she sat back and looked at Harry.  
  
"Uncle Harry," She cooed, "Don't you have presents for mommy and Draco?"  
  
Harry gulped, on his lap were two fairly large presents. The first he handed to Hermione, keeping the other on his lap. "Mione, as soon as I saw these I knew they were for you."  
  
As Hermione began to carefully pull away the paper she saw the texture of old leather, and started pulling just a little faster. When she had them out of their wrappings she took a look inside and gasped "Rose Effloresce, Harry, are these her original journals?"  
  
Harry nodded, but before he could say more Hermione was against him, hugging tightly. "Oh Harry! Thank you! I've been looking for printed copies ever since I learned about the Order of Merlin, and never could!" then "Harry, these must have cost you a fortune, where ever did you find them?" Harry looked at his feet. Yes, they had cost quite a bit, but the money was nothing when he saw how very perfect they were for her.  
  
"Mione, really, I found them in some shop in Hogsmeade, I don't remember which, I'd been to so many just looking for the gifts." He sighed, "Mione, don't worry about how much they cost, all that matters to me is that you like them, your enjoyment means as much to me as any gift."  
  
"Alright Harry, thank you" she sniffed, "Oh dear, I'm quite leaky today, aren't I?" Harry just smiled and hugged her tighter for a second before releasing her back to her seat on the couch.  
  
Now came the hard part. He had known that Mione would like her gift, but from here on out things got tricky. Trying to look confident and sure he gave Draco the other carefully wrapped box. As Draco took it Harry could see emotions warring in his eyes, but he was not sure which they were.  
  
Draco pulled back the paper reverently, as if receiving the actual gift would break the spell that hung over them all now. Harry watched, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, as Draco finally got to the box that held his gift. He slowly pulled the Dragon sculpture out and set in on the coffee table in front of them. Draco ran one finger down the spine of the Dragon, and Harry was almost positive he could feel it on his own skin.  
  
Harry was watching the Draco, and Draco was looking right back at him. Neither watching the Dragon. Sam broke to silence when she said "Uncle Harry! What did you do to the Dragon! It never moved before!"  
  
Harry looked down at the gift he had worked so hard on. The Dragon slowly stretched, and Draco watched it, seemingly rapt. The Dragon was about the size of a basketball, but all black. It's eyes were a silver that reminded Harry so much of Draco it was almost eerie.  
  
"Thank you Harry" Draco said quietly, watching in awe as the dragon made as to sleep on his lap.  
  
"But, but Uncle Harry!" Sam began again, "What did you do to it?"  
  
At this Harry smiled. That had been a tricky bit of magic. "It's a pensieve, you put the strands of memory in it's mouth, but it's bound to Draco, and it's charmed alive."  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Harry that takes ages, and you would have had to find a power source to keep the charm going, and the carvings, and, Harry that would take ages to make!"  
  
Harry just smiled again and looked expectantly at the last box sitting on the arm of Draco's chair.  
  
Picking up the dragon and setting in on his shoulder Draco grabbed the last present and said, "Right then, I'll just give this to Dumbledore, since were heading there anyway."  
  
Harry was devastated, although he knew Draco probably reciprocate Harry's love; he had thought they had gained some semblance of friendship. It was not the lack of present that had him upset, but the blatant disregard for his feelings, and now he—  
  
"Oh Harry, do stop looking like a kicked puppy, I was only joking, this is for you." Feeling extremely foolish, Harry took the present from Draco's hand.  
  
Unwrapping it he saw shinny black. Pulling all the paper off he saw it was a black jewel-box. One side of the lid featured a dragon, the other a lion. Pulling open the hinged lid Harry saw the biggest emerald he'd ever seen. He barely touched it and it sprung to life, green flames erupting all around it as it floated in front of Harry's face.  
  
Harry looked over at Draco, who had lost his pretension and seemed diffident. "It's like a pensieve. You just, stare at it, and think of something you'd like to relive and it's like your there again. You experience everything all over. You can also put memories into it, but they don't leave your mind. They exist in both places. I've put a few in already. To access them you tap your wand against the emerald twice and saw the incantation that's around the lid of the box."  
  
Harry nodded, "Thank you Draco, it's gorgeous." Harry couldn't out into words how he felt at this moment, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to breathe normally again, and his heart was not just skipping beats, but running, leaping, and pole vaulting them.  
  
Unsure of how to act he looked over at Hermione, who was sputtering noisily. Harry laughed himself into stitches at the sight.  
  
"C'mon Mione, let's go talk to Dumbledore." And so the four of them sobered instantly, remembering things they had wanted to out off, the magic broken.  
  
*************************************  
  
Dobby looked around the mess that had been made of Master Harry's room. Seeing the card laying on the floor, and the signature, Dobby had an idea. Who ever said house elves were beyond a little revenge?  
  
*************************************  
  
Hermione was sitting in a plushy chair in Dumbledore's office. Harry was holding her hand while she leaned her head back, sighing.  
  
"It'll be alright Mione" Harry told her, his voice soft. Hermione wished she could believe him, but this was Sam. She couldn't have anything happen to Sam. She was bracing herself.  
  
"Harry," Draco started, "How are you so sure, witches and wizards that young aren't supposed to be able to do strong magic with or without a want, but most definitely not without one."  
  
"No, I know that's not true, and so does Hermione. I did wandless magic many times when I was angry as a child. I've gotten a hold on it, certainly, but before that there were some dramatic effects, remember Mione?" And she had to grin. Harry moved onto the floor in front of her, met her eyes with his. "Hermione, this accidental magic isn't a big deal, really it isn't, you've read the books, you know that. What the real problem is, and the one I think you don't really want to face is that Ron sent those dolls, the first time he'd sent her or you anything, and that's how she reacted. You're scared, the depth of emotion there, and that Ron is somehow back into your life again, when you were finally rid of the pain."  
  
Damn him, damn that Harry Potter if he didn't cut right to the root of her pain and fear. Unable to hide the truth from herself, unable to displace the worry, fear, and anger, she fell to the floor and into Harry's arms. He cradled her close and she released the words she'd really been holding in check.  
  
"What if he wants her Harry? What if he wants visitation, what if he wants to see her, or have custody? What if he wants to see me, oh gods Harry, I don't think I could take it"  
  
"We'll deal with each thing as it comes, Mione. That's all we've ever been able to do. And don't you worry. If I can face the Dark Lord, I'll be damned if I fall prone in front of a crippled Ron Weasley." She nodded, hugged herself closer to him quickly before straightening herself up and sitting primly in a chair. Harry got up as well and sat down in another chair.  
  
As soon as they were situated Dumbledore walked into the room, holding up his hand to forestall any questions. "Young Samantha had some extra magic in her system, Poppy has given her some sleeping draft and she'll sleep 'til morning and wake up normally. There's nothing to worry about on that front. There is something, though, that I must speak with you about."  
  
Hermione knew what was coming now, he had information on what was going on with Ron, and as much as she needed to knowledge, she dreaded with every shard of her broken heart.  
  
"It seems," Dumbledore began as he sat in the chair behind his desk, "that Mr. Weasley has taken up residence in Hogsmeade. He's refurbished the Shrieking Shack, to be more precise. I don't exactly know what his goals are, but considering this last gift you should do some thinking about Samantha, and her father. This situation is going to take extreme care. Spend the rest of break thinking about how you want this to go, and, considering Samantha's reaction to the gift, what she wants as well. We want to be ready to counter any move he decides to make, but we can't do that when we have ambiguous feelings."  
  
They all exchanged some rather awkward pleasantries, and Hermione walked back to her room followed by Draco. Harry stayed on to talk with Dumbledore.  
  
"Are you going to be alright, Mione" Draco asked as they reached his and Harry's rooms first.  
  
"Yes, I'll be alright. I'll just check on Sam and get some sleep"  
  
"Alright, we'll probably just be in our rooms if you need us"  
  
"Thank you Draco." And really she could say no more. She walked the rest of the way back to her chambers and into Sam's room.  
  
Sitting on the bed she looked down at her sleeping daughter noticing, not for the first time, how much she looked like her father. Thinking thoughts that led nowhere she decided to get ready for bed, knowing that she would probably not sleep a wink.  
  
After she'd gotten into her pajamas she hesitated, and then made her way back to Sam's room. Pulling back the covers she wrapped herself around her daughter, and swore on pain of death, that no one would take her Sam away.  
  
*************************************  
  
Draco had showered, and was sitting cross-legged on his bed. His body was almost still; except for the slow strokes he was giving his dragon. His mind, though, was another story entirely. Doubts, regrets, and second thoughts swirled around creating chaos. His insides were twisted, and he kept thinking ~I wonder if he'll look at them tonight. I wonder how he'll react. Oh gods, I should never have done that~  
  
But done it he had. Imbuing the stone he'd given Harry with the only memories he had ever cherished. Hoping that they could speak for him, when he knew he could never speak for himself. The deed done, he now longed for Harry's reaction, even if it was one of disdain. Just so that he would know how to feel. Hermione had been right. If this all worked out it would be worth it, but if it didn't he didn't think he'd be able to go on.  
  
So caught up in his thoughts he hadn't noticed Harry standing, one hand on each side of his doorframe, looking at Draco. When Draco did look up his breath hitched and his heart felt like it would careen out of his chest at the look on that beloved face.  
  
"I never knew, Draco, I never even thought it was possible I" And he saw huge tears fall from Harry's eyes. Knowing what he had to do now gave Draco strength.  
  
Pulling off the bed he walked over and toke Harry in his arms. "None of that matters now Harry, what do you feel now" and Draco waited with bated breath, feeling as if he would fall into those eyes. Suddenly, the green became sharper, more intense than he had ever seen before, and Harry pulled him closer and pressed his lips against Draco's.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Not far away in Hogsmeade an owl tapped on the window of the Shrieking Shack. Ron wheeled himself over and took the large box from what looked like a Hogwart's school owl. Moving again to his desk he set the package down and started to open it. Inside he saw the remains of many porcelain dolls. Slamming the box into the trash Ron became determined to find the one who had poisoned his family against him, and make sure they paid dearly.  
  
A/N: That would be the longest chapter I've put in so far. Did you like it? Huh, huh? Ron's gotta do some bad stuff before he can redeem himself. Yes, more bad stuff then walking out on his family for ten years. He will redeem himself, although I don't think he gets back together with Hermione. Not really plausible is it? ~Shrugs~ We'll just have to wait and see. I'll have more up tomorrow. I'm not exactly sure when this will show up. I did have it written and uploaded today, though, so I am keeping my promise! 


	8. Morning Glory

A/N: You know what? Slave drivers, you lot. My fingers and threatening to go on strike! Me personally? I'm lovin' every second of it! This, by the way, is a little interlude. Oh, it's a real chapter, but I need a space to figure out where this fic is really going (You didn't think I knew, did you? Oh dear, no I haven't a clue). I've gotten the suggestion to keep Ron evil. I've been toying with the idea, and really kind of like the way that it could lead the story. Problem is I already said he'd be redeemed. So, since this is a democracy (I swear it is. This story is totally open to suggestions) there is a poll set up in my LJ: purpledusk.livejournal.com every vote counts, and I will leave it up and open until Sunday. After that I'm afraid (if you want this to keep at the current update speed) I'm going to have to make an executive choice.  
  
As far as the sap tap goes? I'll try to keep it on an even keel.  
  
Wonaplaei: See see! I really like your idea, so let's see what everyone else wants. Thank you for the review, and I'm updating now, aren't I? :o)  
  
Volion: You're here! It's just not a chapter without you! I never would have thought of Elvin cloth! Hmmm we could dress Draco up like Legolas and Harry could... ~firmly pulls mind from gutter~ Let's not go down that road just now. Anyways, I really love your ideas, and plan to use them! I mean there's Valentine's Day, Birthdays, Saturdays ;o)  
  
Thank you all bunches and love you lots!  
  
Draco was waking up. He knew he was, and he didn't mind. He didn't mind because this time he knew the warmth that permeated his every pour was going to stay. He had no fears of Harry shunning him; at this moment he had no fears at all. His uncovered feet were a little chilled, though. ~There's one way to remedy that problem~ Draco slowly pulled his feet under the blankets and rested them against Harry's legs.  
  
"Ah-ah! Your feet are like ice! Get them OFF, Draco, please."  
  
Draco turned in Harry's arms to face him, innocence embodied, "But Harry. They're cold, and you're so warm. You don't want me to be cold do you, Harry?"  
  
"You insufferable gi-" Draco batted his eyelashes. Harry just sighed, and kissed Draco gently on the lips. "So, my imp, what suggest we do with our day?"  
  
"'Imp' is it? Well, as long as I'm yours"  
  
"Always"  
  
Draco put a finger against Harry's lips, which Harry began to kiss, "Harry, Harry, stop, I think we really need to talk about this." Draco began to realize that he did have fears, the night before had been wonderful, but still he had no real answers.  
  
"Yeah, I think we really do, too. I was just, oh never mind. How 'bout we get dressed, send for some breakfast, and talk on the couch?" That sounded as good as anything Draco would have come up with, so he agreed, and Harry went back to his own room to get dressed.  
  
As Draco pulled clothes from his wardrobe he decided that he was in desperate need of a shower. So, reluctant as he was to wash Harry off of him, he stepped under the deluge.  
  
When he emerged from the bathroom he saw Harry waiting patiently on the couch, a tray of various fruits, breads, and cheeses on the coffee table. He watched as Harry realized he'd walked in the room, and relished the look that graced that much beloved face.  
  
"Harry," he said as he crossed the room to sit beside the other man. "Harry, we" but he didn't know what to say, he just shook his head. What would they do? It wasn't like this was just some physical attraction ~Not that that part isn't nice~ or they had just met. They had a history. When the many threads in Draco's mind gave him no answers, he looked to Harry. Harry, who, Draco rolled his eyes, was munching an apple at the moment.  
  
"Draco, don't get irritated. I do my best thinking when I eat"  
  
"Yeah, well then you must think an awful lot more than I thought." Draco mumbled, and Harry chuckled.  
  
Draco watched as Harry's face turned sober, and his posture wary. "How about we do it this way, I'll tell you exactly what I feel, and you do the same in return. I can't see any other way to work this out. We're going to have to be honest" Draco nodded, wanting to know what Harry really felt, while dreading rejection.  
  
"Alright, I've spent the last three months here, living in the same quarters as you, and I've never felt so whole in my life. At first I thought it was just being here, because Hogwart's was always home for me, but then I realized I was wrong. It was the people here, Draco. Who I was with, the people that completed me. When I was a student it was Ron and Hermione, now it's Hermione, Sam, and you, Draco. I know we don't have all the little quirks and tidbits memorized. I know that there are things about you I don't know. There are things I haven't told you, but if you let me, Draco, I'll spend the rest of my life learning anything and everything about you. If you'll let me Draco, I'll bare my everything to you, hold nothing back. Because as much as I don't know there is one thing I know as sure as the sun. I know that I love you and leaving you would be like cutting out my own heart and walking away. Even if it were possible to live through it I wouldn't want to." Draco could hear Harry's breath, shallow inhalations that could never really fill his lungs. He could see the huge tears running down Harry's face. He was mesmerized. So much that he hadn't realized Harry was sitting there waiting for a reply.  
  
Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry's chin and kissed away the teardrops, tasting the salt on his tongue.  
  
"Harry," Now Draco knew why Harry had given the litany, there seemed to be a direct link between his heart and his tongue at the moment, and he could do nothing but obey. "You didn't save my body, that night, Harry you saved my soul. Do you realize that? You pulled the blinders off Harry and I saw. I saw everything for the first time. I saw what you were fighting for and I wanted it. I saw the Light in you, Harry, and I wanted to warm myself by it. Because I was cold Harry, inside and out, and I've had to warm myself on that memory for ten years. You saved my life that night against my father, but Harry, you saved my soul that night on your broomstick."  
  
Draco found himself gasping as well, and he fisted his hands in Harry's shirt. "Harry, if you have felt that way for three months, I've felt it for ten years, and I'd do anything to not have to spend the next ten alone. Not alone as in by myself. I've been alone in the Great Hall at Feast time. Harry, I mean alone inside, without that piece you took with you that night. I swear you can keep it, if you never leave me again."  
  
Harry's answer was unequivocal, if nonverbal, and when the parted he began to laugh. "We are the stuff of cheap romance novels, aren't we?"  
  
~What's he talking about, I just bared my soul to him and he~ and then Draco realized what Harry was doing. ~He's being Harry~ with that Draco beamed at the man he planned to love forever, and pinched him firmly on the ribs. "I don't see what you think is so funny, Potter, I'm sure my monologue would have made it to hardback."  
  
A/N: What was it I said about the sap tap? Well, sorry, I lied. This is short, I know, but it's the third update today, so all told it's long right? Remember to vote if you have an opinion. I swear the results of the poll will give nothing away, except maybe who the villain in this thing will be. 


	9. Sick Cycle Carousel

A/N: I apologize, I would have updated yesterday, but I was totally unable to put two thoughts together, let alone write. This chapter was not one I had intended to write, and I will be writing the one that follows directly after I finish this. So, if this isn't to your taste, just wait and there'll be another in a few hours. The rest of this should flow easily, because I got my act together and sketched out the rest of the story. While it's vague, it now has a distinct direction. BUT I would really like to hear any ideas you guys have. I've gotten nothing but great advice.  
  
Wonapalei: Here's the deal. Your plot bunnies came over whilst mine were having a party. Now I have a plot bunny COLONY on my hands. Get your behind over here and help me cage these things before I go insane! I agree with you though, and rest assured, he will be suitably humbled before this story is over, although it maybe at the very end. I really hope you like this because this chapter is most certainly yours as much as mine.  
  
LadyLilyPotter: I shall contrive ;o) I'm glad you like it!  
  
Ravenfrog: He will, but, not yet...  
  
Volion: I'm not really into the whole declarations of love thing either, more the practical, everyday kind of love. Hate doll shops. Eugh. Scary places. What's next you ask? I'm going to kill off Harry, and Draco is going to have a fling with McGonagall before settling on Sir Nicholas, Hermione goes serial killer, Sam turns into an elf, and Ron becomes the new Dark Lord. Only Peter Pettigrew can save the world....  
  
JumpyPUNKyMonkey: Dobby Rocks! I love Dobby, and when that bit popped into my head I HAD to put it in :o) Me? Cheap romance novels? Never...  
  
Sabrith Alastar: Thank you, you do wonders for my ego.  
  
Fierysoulgirl: Thank you muchly.  
  
Thanks bunches, and love you all lots.  
  
His feet were cold, in fact, his body registered that the temperature of the room was unpleasantly frigid. That, though, was to be expected this season, and he made no attempt to remedy the situation. The day itself was dreary. The falling snow obscured most anything he would have seen had he been looking out the window, as he was wont to do, but today was different.  
  
For the past ten years he been reclusive, and Harry had refused to leave him alone. Every month he would receive a monstrously thick letter with updates on all those people Ron had loved; pictures of his daughter, updates on his wife, the mundane events in Harry's own life, and Ron had never once replied. He would admit to himself, though, that the reason he had never replied was because he came so close to saying yes, every time he picked up a quill and set it to parchment. Since his return to the wizarding world he had received no word, and the only answer to his attempt at reconciliation were the shards of broken glass that had made a home in his waste bin.  
  
He had not meant to stay gone ten years. It had not been his plan, when he apparated from his home that night. All he had wanted were a few moments to think, but they were all over him. Hermione hysterically happy he was alive, Harry beaten with guilt because of his condition, Dumbledore consoling him by saying that, with work and muggle medicine, he would walk again someday. Overwhelmed and unthinking he had stayed long enough to collect the reparations from the ministry for his injuries and services to humanity, and fled his home for solace and obscurity in the muggle world.  
  
Thinking had turned into brooding, and brooding to a deep depression. Ron had found his misery a wonderful partner through the years. It had kept his mind occupied, kept him from feeling the pain of actual recovery, kept him safe from the odd stares of those others who would never understand. Losing his life, he had told himself many times in the past decade, would have been preferred to this ignominy.  
  
All that had changed with Harry's last letter to him. He had felt indignant at first, but soon had come to realize something. He had made a great sacrifice, given his mobility, and pieces of his sanity to a cause. Many enjoyed the fruits of his labor, and he had decided that he deserved happiness, just like everyone else. Happiness, though, had always been found with those people he had repudiated more times than we cared to count. So, he had decided to send an overture to the one person he had not consciously scorned, and those who had professed to love him so many times in the past had made sure she never saw it.  
  
Anger had masked hurt, just as misery had been front for fear, and now he could look at the box sitting precariously in his too small waste bin, with a kind of cold calculation. There had been something fishy, he knew, about the scene he had witnessed in Hogsmeade that day a week before Christmas, but he had not been able to place his finger on precisely what made that vignette stand so vividly in his mind. Oh, he knew that most of it had to do with Malfoy. He had always been bitter towards him, even before that fateful night, and that day had only deepened his loathing because Malfoy had not only indirectly taken away his ability to walk, but he was also able to freely converse with Ron's wife and daughter.  
  
Now, as he gazed down at the latest addition of the Daily Prophet that sat on his lap, everything was clear. He had been reluctant to force himself back into their lives, but now he had no reservations. Their care and concern had been a farce. They had waited just long enough to assuage their guilt over his predicament, and then gone on to show their true colors. Now Ron knew that if he wanted to wrest what was rightfully his from the clutches of these interlopers he would have to take drastic measures. He had been waiting ten years for confirmation of his suspicions, it had never made sense to him that Malfoy had been cleared of all charges, but now it did. Everything was oh so clear, as he reread the engagement announcement of one Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.  
  
A/N: I know this is short, but I think it's more affective alone. The next chapter should be longer, and up in a few hours. Ron's not really an all bad kinda guy, he just has his vices, and while it may seem so I am not really slandering him. He's one of my favorite characters, just trust me, and see where it goes. 


	10. I Know You, Inside and Out

A/N: Like I said, a few hours later! Not so depressingly futile as the last chapter, I hope.  
  
Wonapalei: You're not going to come get these things, are you? ~cries~ They're all over the place! It was chapters like that last one that give me incredible guilt over what I've done to Ron. He's got some tough stuff ahead of him.  
  
Harry was late. Not fashionably late or even "first day jitters late", but the kind of late that would make Snape turn over and deduct house points from his grave. The only consolation Harry had was that Professor Malfoy would also be late to class that morning. Firmly pulling off the path that those particular thoughts would lead him down he sped his brisk walk up to an almost run.  
  
Absently he noted that the hallway looked significantly smaller than it had in his first year, but even the diminution of the corridors did not suppress the embarrassing echo of his steps. He knew his students would hear him minutes before he arrived. Fixing a contrite look on his face, he continued on, if falteringly.  
  
As he entered the classroom he had the distinct urge to bow his head and sit in the empty seat at the back. Deciding, though, that he would look rather of place with a group of second years he marched himself up to the front of the room and fiddled with a piece of chalk. He could feel all those eyes on him, and decided that teaching class was almost as bad as the doll-filled room had been. If possible he grew even more nervous and put the chalk down to look busy with some papers. He knew that eventually he'd have to teach them something, especially considering he'd just arrived and class was already half over. Before he could think of what to say, though, one brave Hufflepuff raised her hand.  
  
"Yes?" He asked, hoping against hope she had a real question and wouldn't ask to go to the lavatory.  
  
"Are you Professor Potter like Harry Potter? I mean, are you the Boy-Who- Lived-Too-Many-Times-To-Count?"  
  
Harry was startled, and had to resist many urges at that moment. ~I cannot hurt the students, I cannot hurt the students~ First off, he severely resented being called a "boy" by someone who had maybe been two years old when he had battled Voldemort for the last time, and second, he'd never heard that nick-name before, but he knew he did not like it.  
  
"I am Professor Potter, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and that's all that really matters at the moment" Oh dear. That had been colder than he'd meant, but the Hufflepuff was insatiable.  
  
"Oh, so are you really going to marry a Death Eater?" Harry's head snapped up, any vestiges of nervousness had dissolved with her words.  
  
"Class, please turn to page four-hundred-seventy, and read 'til the bell. When you arrive tomorrow I would like sixteen inches on what you read." Page 470-500 held a concise history of the aftermath of the war, including that Draco had been cleared of all charges.  
  
Harry was tired. No, he was exhausted, shocked, angry, a little depressed, and wholly disappointed. After his first class was over the day had gone down hill ~If that were possible. ~ He had a class of first years, Slytherins and Gryffindors, right after the second years had gone, and they had had even fewer scruples than the Hufflepuff girl. After lunch he had been confronted by seventh years that, while not saying a word one way or the other, sent him funny looks. ~At least in that class I got to teach. ~  
  
It was in that desolate frame of mind that he sought his and Draco's rooms. Thankfully this time each step was not heralded throughout the school. Opening the door he saw Draco sitting on the couch, red-faced, fists clenched staring down at a copy of the Daily Prophet. Upon seeing Harry he crumpled up the paper and shoved in under a cushion.  
  
"What was that, Draco?" Harry asked tiredly, he didn't know for sure, but he suspected that paper held the source of all this day's troubles.  
  
"It's nothing, love. Come here and tell me about your day"  
  
Harry walked over and sat next to his blond fiancé, but before Draco could stop him Harry had his hand down the couch and pulled out the offending article. Draco muttered something Harry didn't catch, but before long he was saying some pretty risqué adjectives himself.  
  
Headline: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy  
  
Harry read no more, he spared a glance for the name at the bottom of the article, and sure enough, Rita Skeeter had written it. Sighing, he threw the paper into the flames, not caring what it had to say, knowing it was rubbish, and stretched himself out, laying his head in Draco's lap.  
  
Harry noted that Draco was no less gorgeous upside down, and reached up to capture a hand in his. It didn't matter what the paper said about them. The people who mattered knew the truth, and Harry would be content with that, he'd learned that lesson years ago. He hated that it was wedging itself between him and his students, but he'd go on teaching them anyway, and eventually, he hoped they would come to know him as their professor and not some bloody persona the papers had created.  
  
Throughout the years there had been several Harry Potters, and none of them came close. In fourth year he'd been pitiful, in fifth a madman, in his sixth year their savior, and in all the years since something new whenever material was running low. So what if today he was not in their good graces, anyone that quickly swayed by the Skeeter bitch wasn't worth his time anyway. Of course he wouldn't feel that way in the morning, but he'd had a bad day, and wasn't feeling very gracious. "Harry, come to bed. We'll worry about it in the morning, if we have to. Please."  
  
Draco wouldn't have to ask twice. Harry's mood was drastically better, all things considered. He'd come to Hogwart's with out a home, a love, or a family, and found all three in Draco.  
  
********************************************** In Draco's opinion, the rest of the term could only be described as hellacious. He wouldn't tell Harry, because he was having far too much trouble with his own students, but Draco was not having an easy time of it. The slanderous articles continued to be printed, he was ambushed whenever he left the castle, and he didn't think he could stand another prying student.  
  
The only things that made these weeks manageable were Harry, and planning their wedding. In fact, he'd taken up the habit of bringing the wedding plans with him to class and setting them on his desk next to a picture of Harry playing Quidditch. It wasn't irresponsible; honestly it was the only thing that kept him from throttling some of the more inquisitive students  
  
Today, though, he watched the last of the students leave on carriages, going home for the summer. Draco was free.  
  
"Hi, Uncle Draco." Said a bright voice from behind him, and Draco sighed. He been made an 'uncle' the day Harry had told Hermione and Sam that they were getting married. He didn't mind, exactly, it was just strange. Draco had no siblings, no familial ties at all, and it was odd to finally be attached to people. The family he'd been born into had never felt like this. If it had he would have had no problems siding with his father. The old adage "Blood is thicker than water" did not ring true, at least not with either he or Harry.  
  
"Hello Samantha-mine, what can I do for you?"  
  
She tipped her head to one side and bit her bottom lip. Draco's eyes widened, this was the sign of either a confession or an uncomfortable question. He wasn't sure which, but he wanted neither.  
  
"Can I be a flower girl?" Draco could breath again, no uncomfortable familial duties right now then.  
  
"You have to ask? Of course, we're only having the best at our wedding, and there's no one going to be a flower girl better than our Sammy" Draco smiled wanly, he hoped that had been the right thing to say. Harry was better at this sort of thing. It seemed his words had done the trick, though, because soon he was wrapped in the patented rib-cracking Samantha squeeze. If she ever wanted to play Quidditch she certainly had the muscle.  
  
"Yay!"  
  
"Sam, honey, I don't think Uncle Draco can breathe" Hermione admonished from the doorway. Harry was standing next to her, a strange expression on his face. Draco didn't have enough air going to his head to contemplate it, though he'd seen if often when both Harry and Sam were around.  
  
"Oh, sorry" and he was quickly released to see Harry and Hermione suppressing giggles, and Sam beaming at him like he's just handed her all the keys in Gringotts.  
  
"Sammy, sweety, we have to go. Gramma and Grampa want to check your teeth today."  
  
"Again? They checked them last month!"  
  
"I know, we still need to go. Now." Hermione had her no-nonsense face on, and there were grown wizards who would fold under such a gaze. Sam, on the other hand, began to whine.  
  
"Mom! I don't want to get my teeth checked. I want to play, I want to-" Suddenly no sound was coming from Sam's mouth and she was being pulled from the room by an ear.  
  
Laughing quietly, as if amused, but preoccupied Harry sat down on their couch next to him. Laying his head on Harry's shoulder he again relished that they would be free all summer.  
  
"I think," Harry began, "that you'd make a great dad." Draco was sure he felt his jaw hit the floor. This was what that look was about? Oh shit. How many times had he seen that look? ~Must be in the thousands~ Oh shit. Trying not to look as scared as he felt he smiled at Harry, albeit a wobbly smile, walked into their bedroom and locked the door. He knew Harry could be in their with a simple alohomora, but he also knew Harry would leave him be if he wanted privacy.  
  
Draco had read about the spell that allowed men to have children. Everyone had, and even considering the origin, he had no problem with it. He just couldn't help but wonder if Harry and he would make good parents. They had both had disgusting childhoods, were media magnets, and were not used to being directly responsible for another life. Oh sure, Draco had been a spy, and Harry had struck the killing blow they'd been responsible for saving the lives of many people. Those people, though, were nameless, faceless, meaningless even, in the grand scheme of his life. This was another being, and it would rely on them in some way or another for as long as they lived. Yeah, they knew what not to do, but was that enough?  
  
The other side of things was just as worrisome. It was far more stressful for a male to be pregnant than a female. Towards the end of the pregnancy it took an enormous amount of magical energy to sustain the baby, and to put it bluntly, they weren't getting any younger. There was also a whispering voice that repeated its mantra until it was all he could here: He would really like to have children with Harry.  
  
Hours later he unlocked their door to find Harry sleeping on the couch. Creeping up as slowly as possible he dropped himself onto Harry's lap, relishing the "Ooof!" that had escaped Harry's pink lips.  
  
He could see Harry looking at him. Their previous "conversation" would not just fade away. He'd have to tell Harry his answer. He wrapped his arms 'round his fiancé's neck and kissed him. Leaving his arms in their rightful place, he moved back only enough to make coherent sound come from his lips and whispered, "I think you'd make a great dad, too."  
  
He could feel Harry picking him up. They wouldn't be making any babies that night, but there was no harm in a little practice.  
  
A/N Better? 


	11. Living Life

A/N: I'm a strange bird. Here's another chapter, the one after it should be up by tonight as well...maybe early next morning because it needs some special tweaking.  
  
Hermione sat in the waiting room of her parents' dentist office. The walls were that sterile white that pulled at her eyes making any light too bright, the wall paper border the same as it had been when she was a child- cartoon characters from a show she never could recall-and everything smelled slightly of fluoride.  
  
This trip to her home was not entirely about her daughter's oral hygiene. So many of her old friends were gone. Some lost to the war and others to that eventual separation that comes with growing up. Aside from Harry and Draco the only people she really felt comfortable talking about problems to were her parents. They didn't always understand every word she said, but they knew people, and people were pretty much the same everywhere.  
  
She leaned her head back against the coarse fabric of the waiting room chair and tossed her worries away for the time being. Long ago she'd learned how to stretch her imagination out and have mini adventures in her head. As a kid it helped her escape boredom, and later they helped clear her mind enough to sleep. Now she wanted to stop from driving herself mad. Eventually she heard voices drifting closer and closer to her, gently nudging her thoughts back to the dentists office.  
  
"Alright, Sammy, let's go out and find that mother of yours." That was her father, his voice loud and cheerful.  
  
"Ma'mowf ith'nub"  
  
"That's to be expected sweety," Her mother soothed, "We had to pull three stubborn teeth"  
  
"Momby!"  
  
Her father wrapped her in a warm hug, with Sam's arms also around her waist. "Are you two going to stay with us after dinner tonight, or go back home?" He asked. She knew that her parents would prefer she stayed, she hadn't spent real time with them since the summer before, but Draco said he needed her help the next day, and she had promised to help.  
  
"Sorry, dad, we'll be taking the Knight Bus back to Hogwart's tonight."  
  
"Ah, well. It would have been nice, but we'll not waste the time we have. Ready to go all?"  
  
And so they filed out of the office, and into her parents' car driving down the familiar road, back to the house where she had grown up.  
********************************************** After they had eaten and Sam was finally packed away in Hermione's old room, playing with all the gifts her grandparents had given her, Hermione and her parents were able to talk.  
  
"So, Harry and Draco are getting married? That's a bit...speedy, don't you think?"  
  
Hermione had to hold in a bark of laughter ~Not for Draco~. The day after Harry had proposed Draco was unbelievably happy. He'd given Sam a piggyback ride, awarded Gryffindor house points, winked at Dumbledore, and given Dobby three kisses and a bear hug.  
  
"Oh, I dunno, mom. They've been living together, sleeping together, and working together for six months. In reality they're already married, it's just public conformation."  
  
Her parents looked dubious, and she couldn't really blame them. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but have doubts, but it took one look at the couple and she would forget. They appeared as if they'd been together forever.  
  
While she had wanted to speak to her parents about Harry and Draco's wedding, and really the current press situation, she found that they were just a little put off at the thought. Some habits die hard, and so, sighing inwardly, she turned the subject to lighter matters for the remainder of the evening.  
  
Sitting on the Knight Bus that night, Sam tucked into a bed, Hermione cast her mind out to think about the plans being made for Harry and Draco's wedding. They'd each chosen special jobs. Harry's was to pick the vows. When Draco had shown Harry the scroll for the wizarding vows that they would have to memorize Hermione was sure he'd croak. When he'd protested them Draco had told him to find others, and he had. He was quite proud of them as well, but hadn't chosen to show them to anyone.  
  
Draco was planning pretty much everything else, and Hermione was the only one being let in. That gave her some sick pleasure. She knew more about Harry's wedding than he did.  
  
Smiling, she was just about to drift off for a few moments when the bus stopped. On stepped a man Hermione had never seen before. He was tall, not as tall as Harry, but still a good six-foot. He had curly chestnut hair and what looked like lavender eyes. His clothes were a simple pair of blue jeans with a white button up shirt.  
  
"Where to?" and then she heard his voice. A rich baritone that made her heart flutter, if only for a moment, "Hogwart's" he said simply, and she watched him walk slowly back to her space on the bus. ~Stop that this instant! ~ She told herself. She'd suppressed these types of thoughts for the last ten years. She had no idea why it was so hard this time. ~Because he's gorgeous~ said that matter-of- fact voice at the back of her head stated.  
  
He'd made it back to the rear of the bus where Hermione was sitting. She was watching Sam sleep, or trying to. ~If only he'd sit down, somewhere away from here, and I could get my wits back~  
  
It didn't appear, though, as this stranger was going to accommodate her, though. As he walked closer to her he hesitated, and then sat down directly across and offered his hand.  
  
"Jared Carman" he said  
  
Hermione was not used to such a greeting. It seemed short, yet not terse. ~Succinct~ said that traitorous part of her mind which seemed dead set on adoring this strange man.  
  
"Hermione Granger, and this is my daughter, Sam." She said, indicating the bed.  
  
Jared smiled down at the sleeping child. "Where are you headed?" he asked.  
  
"Hogwart's school. I teach there. And you?" Of course she knew where he was going, but he wasn't about to let him know she'd been paying attention to him since he's stepped foot on the bus.  
  
"The same, my client is getting married and he wanted to go over some paperwork. I'll probably end up there until the wedding, though it's a heck of a lot of work."  
  
"Oh! Are you Draco's lawyer?" She used the muggle word. She'd never liked the sound of "Law-wizard" it was stuffy.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, yeah. Actually my father was his family's lawyer, but he died a few years ago. Since then Mr. Malfoy hasn't really needed me, but now he wants me there to do work for him and for Mr. Potter. Not that I mind, it's a huge account. It's just, I had no notice!" Suddenly Jared looked rather sheepish, it made him look much younger, almost child-like. "D-do you know them?"  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. He seemed about her age, if not a few years older, but this appeared to be his first "large-account". She could imagine, though, that it was probably the largest account he'd ever get. Harry and Draco separately could support small nations on their bank accounts; together they'd probably be the richest wizards alive.  
  
"They're my two best friends, but don't worry, they've pained almost everyone with their impetuosity."  
  
Jared smiled that pleased smile, and Hermione was sure the bus was spinning out of control. She was rather perturbed when she found it was all in her head. Some how she'd also begun to suspect that the heat and thin air were also her, and these realizations were not making the conversation any easier.  
  
Jared scooted himself up on the bed and into a sitting position, his back against the wall of the bus. "How long 'til we get there d'you think?" He asked, turning his head to look at her again.  
  
"Not too long," She said against the rising beat of her heart. "There are a few more stops for some people on a higher level, so maybe two hours? I'm not entirely positive, but we'll be there by ten pm." She was going to get this under control. If she could teach charms to first year Slytherins surely she could control her reactions around this one man.  
  
As the bus moved on they spoke of inconsequential things; she told him what Hogwart's was like because he'd gone to an American wizarding school, and he told her of the different sorts of clients he'd had, and running the firm since his father had died. By the end of the ride Hermione had found herself growing much more comfortable with Jared's presence. It no longer seemed like the time he'd be spending at Hogwart's would be hellacious. It actually might be fun.  
  
As the Knight bus pulled it self to a stop Hermione woke Sam, and they walked with Jared into the school. He had a room already prepared, but had no idea where to find it. When she saw the location she led him there, as it was only a few doors down from her own quarters. They separated at his door, and Hermione felt slightly chilled, even on that warm summer night.  
  
Half leading, half dragging Sam they made their way to the familiar beds of their rooms. Sam wasn't going to last long enough to change out of her cloths, and so Hermione just covered her up where she'd collapsed on the bed.  
  
Making her way to her own room Hermione felt rather hyper. Telling herself that Draco was going to be getting her up at the crack of dawn she got out her most recent copy of Hogwart's: A History, and within a half hour she had closed her eyes, and fallen asleep.  
  
A/N: Yes? No? Maybe? I guess I should say, Jared Carman is mine. I have a think for purple eyes of any shade. Anyway, next one up either late tonight or early tomorrow. 


	12. May the Light of the Gods Shine Upon Us

A/N: Seeing as we already had one bug mushy love confession is chapter 8 the vows are short and sweet. They're my own concoction of two different Irish Wedding vows. The words are messed around, the "thee" s and 'Thou' s taken out, and so look nothing like the originals. This chapter would be the wedding and the, ahem, special spell and potion.  
  
HecateDeMort: Thanks bunches, and will do!  
  
Fierysoulgirl: Thank you. Well, sort of Ron's already doing something. There are a few hints to it in this chapter, and you'll find out what soon.  
  
Draco lay under the beautiful sapphire coverlet. The bed featured the silkiest of white silk sheets, and the plushest pillows. The drapes were drawn tightly around the bed so that, had there been any light at all, it wouldn't have penetrated his domain. Flopping himself carelessly on to his side, he wondered why he still hadn't fallen asleep. ~Harry~  
  
He had gotten used to Harry's constant presence in his bed. It seemed he now required those soft snores, and snug holds in order to drift off.  
  
He knew also, though, that Harry's absence wasn't the only thing keeping him awake. It was the bad press as well. Harry just ignored it, assuming it would go away, or that it just didn't matter. Ever since that first article he had stalwartly gone on with his life. Eventually he had gotten a handle on the students, and all was right in Harry's world. Draco, though, was worried. Some of the things being printed looked so entirely plausible, there would be one major omission, or fallacy in the article, but other than that the major events of the battle, and what led up to it were startlingly accurate.  
  
This was not the night to be dwelling on such things. "Lumus" he whispered softly into the night, and pulled out the latest, and most informative, article on male pregnancy he'd been able to find, and reviewed the facts, once again.  
  
The road to pregnancy with males works the same as with females. It wasn't an instant thing. Some couples had had to use the potion and spell a few hundred times before they'd gotten it to work. That was more caused by mistiming the spell then infertility, though. It was also about the only thing that was similar.  
  
The potion itself was a mixture of the blood of the two wizards (or witch and wizard) and was ingested by the person who was to carry the child; this was to happen before sex. The potion does two things: First, it insures that the blood from each wizard is inside the body, and second it allows magic that is usually suppressed to come forward. During sex the magical auras of the people involved would begin to merge, that merging would cause both wizards to climax at the same moment, and at that moment, when their magic was at it's peek, they had to recite the spell. Say the spell too early, or too late, and the process would fail.  
  
Gestation was also different. It took four months for a male wizard to carry a baby to term; instead of the nine it took females. This was because from conception (if you could call it that) they baby have already been endowed with the strongest mixture of the magic of its parents. This not only accelerated the growth process, but also made sure the child would not be a squib. This was a great reassurance to Draco. Although he would still have loved a non-magical child, he didn't think he would know what to do with one.  
  
At the end of gestation, when labor was to occur the necessary, a birth canal would have formed, causing the baby to escape through the only plausible exit, or, as Harry had so glibly put it, "out the back door".  
  
His thoughts successfully turned, he was still wide-awake. While wondering how he could possibly spend the long night before his wedding, he hadn't heard the tap-tap on the window, but it came more forcefully the second time, and snapped Draco out of bed.  
  
Muttering something about people sending owls in the middle of the night, Draco opened the window. Suddenly he was no longer irritated. He knew this snowy white bird that lightly nipped his finger. Harry had sent him a letter. As soon as he had untied it from her leg, Hedwig gave him one last love-bite, and flew out the window into the clear summer night.  
  
Draco,  
  
I had only just realized that I forgot to give you a copy of the vows! I know they're not what you're used to, but I got them from Dumbledore, they are the vows from my parents' wedding. No, that is NOT morbidly sentimental! I just read them and felt connected.  
  
After you left today, Sam's dress arrived, and boy was she excited. You would have loved seeing her prance around, holding it up against her body, and looking in the mirror. She's simply adorable, and it really does look lovely on her.  
  
I know your not sleeping. I can feel that you're awake. Don't ask me how; it's just a feeling. Or maybe it's because I'm too excited to sleep and wanted to wake you up in the middle of the night for some company, if only in insomnia.  
  
Maybe I should end this letter and let you sleep, but I don't want to. As long as I'm writing I can pretend I'm saying these things to you, instead of just the paper. As long as I'm writing I feel connected to you, because you are love. When you leave you take my love with you, and it feels desolate with out it.  
  
Go to sleep now, and I can't wait to see you tomorrow.  
  
Yours forever and always, Harry  
  
Lying back on the bed Draco placed the letter close to his face and inhaled deeply. He was right; it smelled just like Harry. Kissing the parchment lightly he whispered "Nox" and fell right to sleep.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
Not quite ready to face the world Harry attempted to stay in his doze, and tried to snuggle close to Draco. For some reason, though, all he found was a cool pillow and unruffled blankets. This was not pleasant. Sitting up and running a hand through his hair Harry remembered where Draco was. Draco had left for their hotel yesterday afternoon.  
  
Sighing, Harry stood up off his bed, and started getting ready for a shower. He would have to find some way of passing the interminable space between now and their wedding. There was something to smile about. He was going to be a married man, and after tonight possibly a father. Really those titles didn't mean anything to him. It was the fact that those things were happening with Draco that made him really happy. Sufficiently elated, he stepped in the shower and turned on the cold water.  
  
Fifteen minutes later he was toweling off, and heard movement in the common room. He knew it was probably Hermione, Sam, and possibly Jared. Harry wasn't positive, but he suspected there was something more going on with Hermione and Jared. Nothing physical, of course, but he got the distinct impression that they had started to really like each other through the few weeks Jared had been a guest. Harry smiled, he would never tell her, but he thought it was about time she moved on. This opinion was, of course, spurred on by Harry's own happiness, which he was hoping would be infectious. Throwing on some clothes, Harry left the bathroom, ready to face the day.  
  
*******************************************  
  
He noted that the reception area was ready. This was to be a small wedding, but still there would be a reception and dancing. There were ten medium sized round tables surrounding the dance floor. Each table was had an arrangement of the wedding flowers (the deepest of purple irises, and lavender) in the center, and skirted in white lace. Pleased with what he saw Draco strolled out of the reception room, and into the area where he was to wait until the start of the wedding.  
  
The day had been busy, frantic even, but his heart hadn't been in any of the tasks he'd had to complete. All he wanted to do was get himself dressed and ready for the ceremony, but first he'd had to do things like making sure the flowers were correct, checking all the areas, making sure he knew who had RSVP 'ed and who hadn't, keeping Sam away from the wedding presents, and other banal tasks.  
  
Now he could hear the music play, and peeked out to see the adorable Sam walking up the aisle with her mother. Draco and Harry would each come out a side door and onto a path that led to opposite sides of the alter. The song signaling his entrance sounded, and he found that there had been a major error in synapse. Somewhere between his brain and his legs the order to walk had been cancelled, denied, or delayed. He wanted to walk, but was stopped right there, staring at his husband-to-be. Harry was, if he had to choose one totally inadequate word, stunning. His coal-black hair was lying perfectly in place, and of it's own accord. Hermione must have given him a temporary vision spell, because his glasses were gone and his green eyes were vivid. His muggle tuxedo fit him perfectly, accentuating his trim waist, the curve of his legs, and, somehow, his muscular chest. Draco came back to himself almost violently. He realized that Harry had gotten to the alter, while he was still barely out the door. Scraping together his dignity he walked down the path to Harry and Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry" Dumbledore intoned.  
  
Harry took Draco's hand. The feel of Harry's warm fingers against his own cold ones was shocking, but wonderful. Slipping the ring onto Draco's finger Harry recited his vows.  
  
"Draco, my ever love, I give you my heart, my soul, my body, in this life and every other. May the light of the gods shine upon us."  
  
"Draco"  
  
"Harry, song of my life, I give you my heart, my soul, my body, in this life and every other. May the light of the gods shine upon us."  
  
Stepping back from them Dumbledore raised their joined hands above his head and said, "May the light of the gods shine upon them" and all in attendance repeated the phrase, and burst out in wild applause.  
  
Draco looked over to see Harry smiling like mad, and they walked hand and hand out of the room a flurry of friends behind them.  
  
******************************************  
  
"For the first time in public, ladies and gentlemen, Misters Harry and Draco Potter."  
  
Hermione watched from her seat at the table as her two best friends walked in to the reception hall. They were gorgeous, especially together, and it made her happy to see them together. Unfortunately it was moments like this that she also felt a pang of bitterness. She squelched it firmly, ~those days are over~ and looked across the table at Jared who was smiling into her eyes.  
  
"Dance?" He asked and offered a hand.  
  
"Of course" she smiled and was wrapped in his arms for the first slow dance of the evening.  
****************************************************  
  
Two men stood in a dark bedroom on the third floor of the most expensive wizarding hotel in Britain. With the window open, and a cool breeze blowing they could barely be heard over the sounds of the night.  
  
"You take it."  
  
"No, you're taking it"  
  
"Perhaps we should have talked about this before now"  
  
"It doesn't matter, I'm not drinking it"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"There's blood in it. I'm not drinking blood"  
  
"You drink a sleep potion with pickled dragon tongues, but you won't drink a little blood?"  
  
"No, I won't"  
  
"Right then, bottoms up!" and then a second later, "Eugh, that's awful!"  
  
"That's why I wouldn't take it."  
  
Moments later the sounds drifting out the window were, if heard by anyone, not repeated.  
  
A/N: Well, that's done. Don't know why, but that was really a challenge to write, but I got it done. We're over the 20,000 word mark, though, so party at my house! 


	13. School Days

A/N: Hiya papayas, I would have written this chapter yesterday, but sadly, I dislocated my shoulder in, shall we say, a less than auspicious manner. I had to get that fixed, and still I type one-handed. EEE! I feel the need to make a confession. I tried to write a sorting hat song for this chapter. It reeked. So, rather than put something awful in, we're going to work around it.  
  
Wonapalei: Ah, Plotting!Ron is right here (honest to gosh truth, I tried to write him in to the last chapter, but couldn't get him to mesh with all the other scenes.) He's been working his butt off; it's just that Harry hasn't been paying any attention. Bad Harry. Ron doesn't know about Jared, because, well, he doesn't exactly get out much, does he? Eep! I'm really glad you liked the "You take it" bit. It just popped into my head, and I included it at the last minute. Love you bunches!  
  
ShaeLynn: Mmm...yummy chips. :o) Thank you muchly! Unfortunately, I can make no promises, except that Ron's actions won't come between Harry and Draco. Other than that...~cackles madly~  
  
JumpyPUNKyMonkey: You're here now, and as long as you like it I'm happy chappy :o)  
  
HecateDeMort: Ron is planning in the Shrieking Shack. He didn't even get an invite, poor guy. ~beams at you~ yup, I think Jared and Hermione would make a good pairing, too.  
  
cutieak88: ~scratches chin~ yeah, so do I. Thank you!  
  
Natasha AKA: Tash: Hehe. Sorry. Copious thanks, I'm really glad you like it.  
  
She had lived there for the entirety of her short life. She knew, even if she could not remember, that she had learned to walk in these very halls. She knew all the professors, had eaten with them, taken short lessons from them, had amused them. She had seen the other students, the 'real' students, walking the halls of her home, and had never given them a second thought. They had ignored her just as easily and everyone had lived their own little life.  
  
No longer, though, was she allowed that oblivion. This night would change it all. Shopping in Diagon Alley had been a short excursion; she had taken many before, and was able to pretend it was no different. She had glanced at her class list, and acknowledged with a type of detached anxiety and excitement that her magical education would be starting in earnest. Now, though, it was different. Joining the other first years at the entrance to the Great Hall she felt her self-confidence wane, just a bit. She glanced nervously at the other students, looking for a friendly face, but they all seemed to blur together. One face turned into another, and regardless of their origin, each face seemed to be displaying the same apprehension she felt twisting in the pit of her own stomach.  
  
As she walked with the other students through to the Great Hall to the front she felt like she was seeing it all for the first time. The older students sitting at their tables, all of the empty spaces-one of which was hers and she wondered which one-the ceiling, and all the professors seated up, front, and center. To her childhood self they had looked friendly and comforting; now they appeared authoritative and intimidating. If they remained thus throughout the year she thought she might have trouble recognizing them when the holidays or summer finally came about.  
  
Through the din she heard Professor McGonagall call out the name of some student, or another. She despaired of learning them all, and was hoping that they had all not made friends on the train. That there was one person standing there, just like her, wishing for a friend in an unfamiliar place. Looking up at the teachers she thought maybe she would catch her mother's eye, but failed. At the table she noticed that the seat next to Harry was empty. He must have seen her looking, for he grinned at her and winked. Slightly heartened by the fact that Harry was still Harry, and had not been transformed in the few short hours since she'd seen him last into 'Professor Potter', she went on, now listening to the names as they were called.  
  
"Francis, Airlia" she heard the professor call shrilly.  
  
There was a slight pause as the small, doll-like girl climbed the steps and donned the hat. Suddenly  
  
"Gryffindor!" and the relieved girl walked diffidently down to greet her new classmates. It was only a fraction of a second before recognized the closeness of that to hers when put alphabetically, and only had a moment to panic before "Granger, Samantha"  
  
~Do or die~ she thought, as the hat was placed on her head, but then reconsidered. She didn't have to do anything, she just sat her butt on the stool and some other force chose the path of her life. It was unnerving, and slightly frustrating to think she was going to be 'put' somewhere. In fact, she was growing rather angry at the thought, not so angry, though, that she missed that the Hat was silent. Straining her eyes upward all she could see was the leather brim, and it was moving not at all.  
  
Suddenly the Hat began to laugh. It was a harsh sound, but also uproarious and it sounded as if the Hat were short of breath. Funny, she'd never seen a hat with lungs, and she hoped they weren't hovering inside the Hat, somewhere above her head, laboring heavily. She wondered if there might be other organs in there as well, she might have an entire set of innards floating haphazardly over her head. The thought made her feel rather ill, and the Hat continued to display its amusement.  
  
It seemed all the others in the hall had noticed, as well, because everyone was staring at her, and the Hat. The students looked frightened, the professors unnerved, and the Headmaster looked like someone had given him a pony ~A white pony, with gray spots, and purple ribbons braided in its mane. ~  
  
"Dear girl," the Hat wheezed, "Do stop thinking, for a moment"  
  
And that, was the end of any patience Sam felt like having. This whole situation was surreal, and maddening. She was on the verge of screaming, or crying. At that moment it didn't matter which. The Hat must have had some idea what was going through her head, for finally it said, "Gryffindor" and the deed was done.  
  
She forced her legs to move to the table where she sat down next to the girl, Airlia, and looked somberly at the faces she would come to know in the next seven years.  
  
The food was much the same as it always was. Everything was delicious, but nothing overly remarkable, and mostly she fiddled with it. Her classmates prattled on, and she found that she liked Airlia somewhat more than the others.  
  
"I'm Airlia"  
  
"I'm Sam"  
  
"Where are you from?"  
  
"Here, Hogwart's"  
  
"Really! Then..."  
  
And the conversation went from there, and Sam thought she just might have made her first real friend. Her life spent at Hogwart's there were always adults willing to dote upon her, but no real friends. It seemed, though, that time was passing around her, and soon she found herself in a red and gold room. She thought it looked quite like Harry and Draco's room, except that the couch was most certainly not green with silver embroidery. The redundancy of color made the strong hues lose their power, mostly it looked stifling, and she longed for her room, at home, less than two floors away.  
  
Troubled by her torn emotions it took Sam a rather long time to fall asleep that night. She was happy; she had friends. She was scared; she wasn't at home. Finally she fell into troubled dreams. When she awoke the next morning she would not remember a single one, but the ominous feeling would haunt her for days.  
  
******************************************************  
  
At 2 am in Hogsmeade, Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge, and a group of aurors left the Shrieking Shack. Finally, they had all the evidence they needed. Ron watched them go, marked their progress as the edged through the shadows and apparated away. He knew that this time, this time justice would be served, and when it all came to a head, the wizarding world would be clamoring for blood.  
  
A/N: And that would appear to be that. This is another chapter that I'm not sure where it came from. I certainly had not had the intention of making it quite so...whatever it is. Anyways, next chapter: It'll be up in a few hours and I suppose it should include who exactly is carrying the baby. Whoever you think it is...it's not...unless it is. Chapter 15 will be different from all the other chapters, and chapter 16 (all of these should go up today) is from Jared's PoV so, we'll see how that goes. Much love, and lots of hugs. 


	14. Sinking Feeling

A/N: Blah, stuff is a real mess 'round here. Here's the next bit. I must warn you, though. Heavy-duty painkillers and muscle relaxants were taken before the writing of this chapter. I rail against two injustices in this chapter. One, the fact that males don't have to go to the gyno, and two the Patriot act (although, that is much more subtle, and not meant to rile anyone's political sensibilities.).  
  
Ice: Thank you! You'll just have to wait and see. Not long, though.  
  
Soulsister: Yay! Thank you. I try, but never really know if my writing's effective. I'm really glad you like it.  
  
Katy Kinneas: I saw your review and was sure I'd seen the name somewhere, and then it was like DUH! I love your fic. ~does cartwheels~  
  
HecateDemort: Thanks.  
  
"Harry...Harry, wake up, love. It's time to get dressed."  
  
Harry just mumbled something and pulled the coverlet over his head. Draco sighed. Waking Harry had just gotten more and more difficult since the pregnancy. Mostly because Draco was no longer quite so efficient as he used to be. Harry tired easily, and was up through the night visiting the bathroom ~frequently~ and Draco was unable to bring himself to do some of the decidedly evil things he'd done before. But there was a way that worked every time.  
  
Draco walked down to the edge of the bed, pulled the blankets off Harry's feet, and lightly began running his fingers over the arch of Harry's left foot. At first there was no response, so Draco started using the very tips of his nails, barely touching. Harry's leg twitched. Bringing his other hand up he started on Harry's toes.  
  
"Stop that, you bastard, it tickles!"  
  
"Yes, but it worked, you're up. Come on Harry, we have to go see Poppy today. After that, it's Saturday, we can come back and you can sleep some more." Draco said, placating.  
  
"No, because I won't be able to sleep after that. I'll have been awake, with that woman spreading goop all over my stomach and prodding my like I was some cow..." Harry was obviously not in a good mood this morning ~or any morning, for the past month~ and Draco resisted the urge to throttle his husband, barely.  
  
The morning after their wedding Harry had been violently ill. Draco was sure he must have thrown up everything head eaten in the past decade. It was like that for the first month, and Harry had been pitiful and apologetic the entire time. That month had done two things for Draco. First it had given him a new appreciation for his husband, for Harry had not complained once, and second it had reinforced his decision not to be the one to take the potion. Dealing with Harry now though, he almost wished he had been the one gestating. At least he would be the one with the swinging moods, and he almost wanted to be pregnant with the next child, just to pay Harry back.  
  
The month after Harry had been ill was wonderful. He was glowing, and happy. During that month they had turned the room Harry had left into the nursery. It was neutrally decorated with light greens and yellows. There was a white crib, changing table, and dresser, enough diapers to hold off a flood, and all the other amenities needed when a baby was on the way.  
  
The third month Harry's mood swings had begun. He went from grumpy arse to crying his eyes out. The latter always made Draco feel extreme guilt for he reactions to the former, and knew that soon enough Harry would be his sweet self again. It was just that in the mean time-  
  
"My back hurts, gods, what the hell are we using for a mattress."  
  
-things were not so easy. They were safely in the last month, though, and neither of them could wait for the baby to arrive.  
  
"I can't wait to get this thing out of me."  
  
Today they had an appointment with Poppy, and she would tell them the sex of the baby, along with some of the other things they needed to know. She would check the baby's magical aura, now that it was safe to do so, and make sure everything was lined up right for delivery. If it wasn't they would have a lot of explaining to do at a muggle hospital when the asked for a cesarean section.  
  
Harry was finally ready to go. Draco wrapped his arm around his husband's waist, and they began the trek to the infirmary. When they were almost half way there a few first years came blasting through the hallway, missing Harry by less than an inch. They skid to a halt a few yards behind the two men, and looked at each other. Draco was livid. He was certain his expression showed it.  
  
"We're sorry Professor Potter, and um Professor Potter. We didn't see..." After much discussing, Draco had decided to take the name of Potter. Both had wanted to take the other's name, to avoid the stigma of their own. Briefly they had considered creating a hybrid like "Potfoy" or "Malter" but opted against it.  
  
"That's right you didn't see. You very nearly knocked down a pregnant man. You could have-"but before Draco could scold them firmly, and deduct an extremely large amount of house points, Harry stopped him.  
  
"Draco let's just go. They didn't mean anything by it, and we'll be late." Harry had a wistful look on his face, but Draco couldn't decipher the reasons behind it.  
  
"Alright..." Draco was willing to go on if Harry wanted him to, but he still threw an angry glance over his shoulder.  
  
After an eternity they reached the door to the infirmary. Draco opened it, and gently pushed Harry in before entering. The infirmary looked as it always had. Many white-sheeted beds lined up in rows on each side of the room. Draco wondered briefly if there had ever been enough sick people to warrant the number. They followed Poppy down the rows of beds to the door at the end. The door opened into a room that looked much like a torture chamber. Metal instruments lined the countertops, leg stirrups on the bed, and straps to hold down the patient all added to the feel, that regardless of the miraculous nature behind their reason for being here, it would be an unpleasant visit. Harry was handed a rather scratchy looking paper gown and went behind a curtain to put it on.  
  
"Up on to the examining table, Mr. Potter, and we'll get a good look at the baby."  
  
With the help of both the nurse and Draco, Harry was finally able to wiggle his behind into position and lay on the table. As Harry laid there, his legs in the stirrups and Poppy poking this way and that over his stomach, Draco was hit with a sense of sick congruity, and had to cough to keep from laughing. That was, of course, the position that had gotten them into this mess in the first place (absent Poppy and her ambiguous yet frightening paraphernalia of course.).  
  
"You're looking fine, Mr. Potter. You'll be delivering in about three weeks time. I strongly suggest you stay away from high stress situations, and heavy physical activity. There's not much else I can do, but it looks as though the delivery will go just fine. If you'll give me a moment I'll get the gel and we'll see what this baby of yours looks like."  
  
Most times, Draco had discovered in his youth, it was best to just nod, rather than interrupt with questions. Usually she would answer them in her own time anyway, and it made sure she wasn't annoyed.  
  
He watched as she spread blue gel all over his husband's round stomach. After she was done a projection floated over Harry's belly. The baby was much larger than it had been on their last visit, and it was most certainly moving. Draco got a feeling like worms in his gut. All that moving around was being done inside Harry's stomach. It was strange, and he wondered if Harry could feel their son (which was another thing made obvious, that they had not been able to view the last time) playing hackie-sack with his internal organs. ~If that's what he wakes up to every day no wonder he's moody. ~  
  
The examination over Harry was given a towel to wipe the gel off with, and then helped off the table to change back into his clothing.  
  
"He'll be alright then?"  
  
"Of course, just make sure he's taken care of, and isn't under too much stress."  
  
"Right."  
  
They sat on the couch in their room. Harry was silent, but not really pensive looking. Sitting there Draco was struck once more with all the love he had for Harry. This happened several times since Harry had come to Hogwart's, and every time Draco was almost dumbfounded. He pulled himself up on the couch and sat on what was left of Harry's lap; his legs on either side of his husband he set his face as close to Harry's as he could with out touching, and whispered, "Our baby's in there," as he began running the palms of his hands over Harry's stomach, his fingers ghosting, but not quite touching.  
  
He heard Harry gasp, and looked up to see him crying. Before he could react there were hands in his hair, and his lips were being brought to Harry's in an open mouth kiss, the like of which they had never shared. When it was over it seemed as though their thoughts ran together and they moved at the same moment, hand and hand, to the bedroom. Before they could move much at all, however, Dumbledore's head appeared in the fire.  
  
"Harry, Draco, your needed in my office, immediately."  
  
They looked at each other. All pretense was gone from the Headmaster's face, and what was left were stark fear, and a very large undercurrent of black anger. They left the room, not even closing the door on the way out.  
  
Arriving in the Headmaster's office they found that Dumbledore was not alone. Before they could get a word out, though, they were surrounded by aurors in what did not appear to be a protective circle. One auror approached Draco, another Harry and their words ran together, but the gist was obvious.  
  
"You are under arrest"  
  
"Conspiracy against the Ministry of Magic"  
  
"Use of the Unforgivables against muggles"  
  
"The aiding and abetting of a Death Eater"  
  
"The use of the Unforgivables against witches and wizards."  
  
"Lying under oath in wizard court"  
  
"Under the prevention of the Dark Arts bill, passed in 2003 we have the right to search your rooms with out warrant, or permission." "The ministry reserves the right to question you under veritaserum without liability"  
  
"Under the muggle and wizard protection act, also of 2003, the Ministry reserves the right to deny you bail, if it so chooses."  
  
"You are granted a hearing by the Wizard's counsel"  
  
"If found guilty you are eligible for the Dementor's Kiss."  
  
He could have been angry, he could have been scared, but the only thought that echoed through his head as they were led from Hogwart's that day was ~Oh shit~  
  
******************************************* The room was dark. Harry sat on their bed, his back against Draco, Draco's back against the wall, their hands on his stomach, and wondered what kind of a world their son would live in. Hoping against hope that they would all live to find out.  
  
A/N: Uh-oh. Yeah, go ahead, smack me now. I had this half-way done, went to lay down for just a moment, and when I woke up again in was 4 am. Forgive me, so here it is now, and I'll have more up (really and truly this time) in a little while. 


End file.
